"Jarod. . ." Arlyn whispered as she looked back at the white-haired prince with an empathetic gaze, her heart reaching out towards the teenager as he sat on one of the two hotel beds. "You need to eat."
"I'm not hungry," He lied. "I ate earlier." Another lie.
"You're a terrible liar," Arlyn chided lightly. Jarod didn't meet her gaze, satisfied with looking out the window and gaze upon the city of Little Rock, Arkansas. They traveled for about two days before Arlyn decided to get a hotel using the money they had found among the wreckage that was now Mackerel's facility.
"I know." He replied without missing a beat, his tone showing that he didn't care. The prince's eyes glazed over, lost in thought. He couldn't help but blame himself for everything.
