CHAPTER TWELVE
NADIA
Can it get any worse?
I had woken up that morning to a heavy bang on my door. “Open the door!” came the voice, thick with authority and impatience. Immediately, I knew who it was. “I know you’re in there. Open the door, Nadia!” The voice belonged to my landlord, Mr. Thomas. This time, the banging intensified, echoing down to my small bedroom, and sending a jolt of panic through me.
I quickly jumped out of bed, my heart racing as I rushed to the door. I paused for a moment, trying to catch my breath and calm my nerves. I ran a hand through my messy hair and smoothed down my pajamas, hoping to get some sense of composure before facing him.
Slowly, I opened the door, and there he was—Mr. Thomas, standing in the hallway, breathing anger as he stared at me with sharp
