8
Vivian POV
I sat on the floor, back against the locked door, Bella's pink hair clip digging into my palm. The party's music had faded to a hum, the laughter now sporadic. Hours had passed since I'd shattered the tray, since Bella, alive, hostile, had walked in with Evans. My sister, who I'd mourned for ten years, was here, and I was trapped in this room, no closer to answers. I banged the door again, my knuckles stinging. "Hello? Clara? Nate? Anyone?"
Silence. I stood, pacing, the silver pen I'd meant for Evans glinting on the desk. What a joke, I'd planned to confess my love, and now he was parading my sister as his lover. My chest burned, anger mixing with confusion. I needed to confront Bella, to know why she hated me, where she'd been.
"Let me out!" I shouted, pounding the door harder. "This isn't funny anymore!"
