11
PAIGE
“So, why an insect? Why didn’t Gregor Samsa transform into, say, a mouse or a spider?”
The professor was speaking, but his words barely registered, and my copy of The Metamorphosis lay closed on the desk in front of me. I quickly covered my yawn with a hand. Last night, I’d spent nine hours lying in the most comfortable bed I’d ever known in my life, so why hadn’t I been able to sleep?
You know why, Paige.
My life was out of control. My comfortable existence had turned into a Kafkaesque nightmare. The spiral into hell had started in the summer when I’d accidentally bought Glendoon Hall, and last week, I’d sidestepped into madness when I broke down on the man I’d had a secret, forbidden crush on for over a year. Then the whole world had taken a trip to Crazytown when Emmy Blac
