Thea entered her bedroom, only to find Anthony standing at her desk and flipping through her notebook of drawings. A haze of rage and humiliation covered her vision.
No one, not even her family, had seen those drawings. And there he was, looking through them like he owned them.
“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded again as she stalked toward him. She tore the notebook from his grasp before he’d even replied. “And what the hell are you doing in my room?”
“Your phone kept going off,” he explained, like he was speaking to a child. “And it was annoying.”
“And so you took a detour to look through my things? Do you have any sense of decency?”
He shrugged. Clearly the answer was no. “The notebook was open. I saw it, I looked at it. If you didn’t want people to see your stuff, maybe do
