The shouting downstairs grew louder—men barking orders and the sound of boots slamming against the marble floor. My pulse hammered in my ears as I listened carefully to the voices.
Then without wasting much time I texted Mordred with my room location. I heard my step sister's cries from downstairs and my step mom's yelling voice.
What's going on downstairs? Has Mordred been caught too? Oh no, this won't help, I tried calling his phone but it didn't go through.
The air inside the dim room felt colder and heavier, like the walls themselves knew something violent was coming.
Then before I could explode in countless thoughts another gunshot tore through the silence.
And for a brief moment, everywhere was quiet, the kind that made my stomach twist. I don't even know what is going on again and who got shot
If my step father finds out I'm the one behind all this nonsense, I'll receive the punishment of my life.
