Oliver's POV
"Are you okay?" Zafirah asked as she sat beside me in the living room.
"Of course, I am fine," I replied.
"Don't worry, and I am sure my daughter will come around. She likes you." She stated, and I looked at her with confusion on my face.
"I am her mother, Owen. I knew how she felt just looking at her reaction. She might try to hide her feelings for you, but it will never escape from me." Zafirah added.
"We need to leave soon, but Victoria is making a show. She locked her doors and didn't even answer me or her father." She continued.
"Maybe you can talk to her," she said.
"I don't think that is a good idea, Zafirah; I am sure she will not talk with me," I responded.
"Just try to talk some sense into her; you are the only one who can convince her to get out of her room." She declared with worries on her face.
"Okay, I will try," I replied, and she weakly smiled at me.
"Thank you, Oliver," he softly replied.
