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36

PYKE

“You’re screwed,” Dad mumbles under his breath.

I can’t believe Dad said that word. Sighing helplessly, I shake my head repeatedly as I watch Camila walks away. Megan follows after shooting me a glare.

“You need to do something before you will lose her, Pyke,” Dad continues.

My head snaps at him. “Do you think I don’t know that? You just worsened the scenario.”

“I called you here to explain not to blame me,” Dad whispers through gritted teeth.

“Whatever.” I jerk to my feet still glaring at him. Unconsciously, I slow my pace toward the hallway when a soft hand grabs my arm.

“Let her get some rest, Pyke—she needs it. Her sleep had been deprived lately,” Issa says, sounding bothered.

“Why doesn’t she get a good sleep?” I also noticed the dark circle under her eyes earlier. The most beautiful chocolate eyes I’ve seen are now sorrowful and frightened.

“The doctor suggested a therapist, but s

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