Chapter 17: This is torture

I hummed as I cooked dinner, swaying my hips with excitement like a restless monkey. My mouthwatering steak was almost ready, and I couldn't wait to sink my teeth into it. I lowered the heat and set my plate, trying to patiently await Mr. Clinton's return.

Just then, I heard footsteps behind me. "Your food smells delicious," Erin said, her bright smile and wide eyes gleaming with youthfulness. I turned to face her, feeling a warmth in my chest. "Thanks, want some?" I asked, but she declined, saying she was done for the day and headed out.

After dinner, I settled onto the couch with my textbook, waiting for Mr. Clinton to return. But as the hours ticked by, I grew restless, my eyes drifting to my phone. Should I call him? I decided against it, feeling a bit annoyed, and headed to bed instead.

As I drifted off to sleep, I felt a sudden chill run down my spine. I shrank under the duvet, clinging to it tightly. But when I opened my eyes, the room was plunged into darkness. I shot up