Prey Of Twin Stepbrothers
“So, we were just discussing something special.”
I looked up, brows furrowed. “Special?”
“Yes,” Olivia said, practically beaming. “Your birthday! Next Saturday, right? You’ll be turning eighteen!”
My heart dropped.
“Don’t,” I said almost immediately, shaking my head. “Please don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“Oh, honey,” Mom’s smile faltered, “it’s your eighteenth. That’s a milestone!”
“And we’re planning something grand,” Lucusadded, nodding with excitement. “Catering, music, decorations—your friends, teachers, the whole academy will be invited.”
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