SERAPHINA'S POINT OF VIEW.

Pacing, I walked the length of the corridor, as my fake father lounged lazily on the armchair. I fix him with a glare as he watches me with a mischievous grin in his eyes.

"Do not look at me like that." I spit, my teeth clenched, as I fix him a death glare, but he smirks and says while running his hands through his hair.

"Oh, please, I have never seen you so worked up over anything in forever. The last time something bothered you so much, you were in the fifth grade. ...