As soon as Greta speaks, I stop moving. Callum doesn't have the baby. The air in the room gets thicker, and everything stops. My legs feel like they're going to fall off. Now, every eye is on me, and each look burns into my skin. I can hardly hear the whispers in the dining hall because my heart is beating so fast. My throat tightens, and fear claws at me. Callum's grip on my waist gets tighter. His touch is no longer warm; it's cold and hard. Slowly, he turns to face me, his expression unclear, but his eyes, those usually warm, safe eyes...are hard, narrowed into holes. His voice is low and tense as he asks, "Is it true?" I shake my head, but no words come. My mouth feels dry, like sandpaper. How could she know? How could Greta possibly know? I never told anyone. No one could’ve known about that night. Greta steps closer, her smile wicked and triumphant. She’s loving this, rejoicing in the chaos she’s caused. Her look stays on me, daring me to deny it. “You thought you could
Last Updated : 2025-02-11 Read more