21

Camila

I’ve created a trench in my bedroom carpet from pacing back and forth. It’s impossible to hold still. I’m going to leave the mansion! I’m ... going on a date with Asher.

What a strange thought. I’d never have predicted I’d go out with him willingly a week ago, but things have changed between us. Not drastically—but enough. The gnarled weed grown from hatred has been trimmed down to reveal the fresh, spring green beneath.

And with enough nourishment, it might even blossom into a garden.

Running my hands over the silky, burgundy gown with its high slit on my right hip, I check myself out in the full-length mirror again. I’m not sure where Asher is taking me tonight. Out of caution, I’ve dressed in something formal without being pretentious. For all I know, he could be dragging me to a bar like Topher’s.

Right. Don’t get too fuzzy-headed, Camila. This could be another one of his plans.

Frowning as some of my giddiness fades, I retrieve the black clutch I’ve stuffed my phone and wa