Viona's POV
I was pacing around like a hamster on espresso in a VIP waiting room. My father wanted to talk to me alone. Just the two of us.
The thing that made my fingers fidget anxiously, though, was that he was now talking with Rafael alone too. Was this the next test? What were they discussing?
I pressed my ear against the thick wooden door connecting to the next room, trying to catch even the smallest sound of breathing, but it was muffled. Deaf. Thick.
My face twisted with frustration. I hated the uncertainty looming in front of me.
If I could just hear what they were discussing, I could grasp what I needed to say later. What if Rafael and I missed each other's facts-check?
The sound of the hallway door opening snapped my head up. My mother.
Her furious frown made me flinch. She slammed the door shut before marching toward me with a hurriedly firm stride. Why? Would I get another slap?
