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CHAPTER 37
~Spring's POV~
The next thing I heard was the lie.
Rose, in that broken-glass voice of hers, dripping with sugar and manipulation.
"I just wanted to apologise," she whimpered. "To make things right… about the gift. I thought it was mine. I really did. And I figured, maybe if I said sorry, she'd understand, but… but as I got close to her door, she slammed it in my face."
I blinked slowly from my bed, still curled under the sheets. The laptop beside me cast a soft glow on the duvet, a quiet witness to the drama unfolding outside my door.
Then—like clockwork—came the knock.
No, not a knock. A bang.
Three sharp, angry slams, followed by my mother's voice.
"Spring! Open this door!"
I sighed and rolled onto my back, covering my face with my hand.
Of course.
I waited a moment, just long enough to annoy her further. Then, with a tired groan, I climbed out of bed, dragging myself toward the door like every limb weighed a hundred pounds.
