41

Maybe I do care a little. Or a lot. Considering I haven’t been able to sleep. After I sneak into the flat, I think I hear moans of pain. But after close inspection, it’s only Ava’s cello. Cecily’s light is out, so she must be asleep. Me? I toss and turn in bed for half an hour, picturing Killian on top of that blonde. In my imagination, he’s thrusting inside her and roughening her up as she likes it and— I stuff my face with a pillow in an attempt to shoo the image away. Then I roll onto my back and open my Instagram app. The first image that comes up is a selfie of Annika, pouting while leaning on one hand as the sun glows from the tall French doors behind her. There’s beautiful and then there’s photogenic beauty like Anni’s. She captioned her picture ‘Bored. Tell me something about yourself.’ The first comment that appears is from lord-remington-astor. My lack of knowledge on Greek literature has always been my Achilles' elbow. Annika answers with a line of laughing-out-loud emojis.