*Rosie Fay-Donovan*
For a moment, I forgot what I wanted to talk to Archie about. I wasn't worried about us, but rather what had him so distraught. I was certain he wasn't going to tell me, but I couldn't pretend I didn't listen to it. So, instead of turning and going to my room, I carried on and barged inside his office without knocking.
Archie was pacing in front of his desk, his phone still in hand. His head snapped toward the door as soon as I entered. His hair was messy and pointing in every direction possible, his dark circles making him look like he was in his fifties. His button-up shirt was open, and his tie was hanging loose on his neck.
“Rosie, I didn't know you were home," he muttered, clearing his throat and turning his back to me, heading toward his desk and sitting at it.
