Yavannah Constantine
I sat across from Adonis, the weight of his silence pressing down on me. His eyes were hardened with anger as he stared at the floor, searching for the right words to say.
"When I was in high school," he began, his voice hard and strained, "I had everything planned out. My senior year was all about making sure I got into the best college, Underway. I worked hard, studied late, even convinced my teachers to write recommendation letters for me. Some made me tutor some dumb girls, but I endured, and I got the full scholarship—everything I needed. It was my way out of that damned house."
He paused, and I could see the conflict in his eyes as he relived the memory. I leaned closer and pulled his fist into mine, urging him on with a nod. I could already feel something dark lurking beneath his words.
"I didn't know," he said, taking a deep breath as he turned to look at me, "that Felicity had already made plans of her own."
