SEVENTY-EIGHT

ELISE’S POV

I blinked rapidly, trying to process Hannah's words, “What did you just say?” I leaned in closer, my brows knitting together like two angry caterpillars.

“Umm… Miss… Miss Freya is here,” Hannah stuttered, her confidence crumbling under my glare.

“Are you stupid?” I bit out, my voice climbing an octave as I raised my hand, nearly striking her across the face. She flinched, stepping back as if I were a live wire and I halted mid-motion, catching myself just in time.

I took a deep breath, my lips tightening into a thin line as I let my hand drop, “Where is she?” I demanded.

“She’s, um… she…” Hannah cleared her throat, her finger awkwardly pointing toward the stairs as she scratched her neck, a nervous gesture that made my irritation flare.

“Speak up already, you moron!” I snapped, my impatience palpable.

Her eyes widened in fear, and she blurted, “She’s in the living room!”

I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, my nails digging into my skin as I fought to keep my composure