Lyla

I don’t remember when I’d finally gotten off Rashid’s floor or walked out of his room, but when I finally blinked and came to again, I was heading down the stairway to the foyer.

I could vaguely recognize I was hungry—maybe the reason why I’d finally started moving again. How many hours had passed by me while I sobbed on his floor, I had no idea. I half hoped he’d come in and happen upon me, distraught over seeing ...