Zerina's Point Of View

I ran along the staircase, using my eyes to search for Mr. Wilson. The marble floor seemed to stretch on forever, a cold, unforgiving expanse that matched the dread pooling in my stomach. I didn’t know what to do. I hated this feeling—the heaviness in my chest, the guilt weighing on my thoughts like a physical presence. I hated knowing someone was angry with me, especially when I didn’t fully understand why. And worse… it was him. Lysander. My heart twisted ...