Joyce’s POV

I hum the tune of 'Graffiti' in my pajamas, hair in a messy bun, waiting for Irene to bring breakfast. Ever since the incident with Desmond, Marlowe made sure I was locked in all the time, with a wolf stationed beneath my side of the castle in case I tried another impulsive escape.

They didn’t trust me. Not Marlowe, not Luke, not even Irene. She hasn’t been able to look me in the eye since the incident. When she comes in and I greet her good morning, she utters something ...