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ROYCE. Sick of this family, I stand up. “Excuse me.” “Royce!” Dad snarls. “What do you mean by that, Royce?” Mom asks sharply. “Why don’t you ask your mate and favourite son exactly what they’re up to?” I growl. “Come on Charlotte, I’ll buy you some takeout.” Charlotte jumps up. “Ok.” “Sit down.” Dad snarls at her before his gaze turns to me. “The both of you!” She hesitates, glancing at me as I wait for her, before Mom takes hold of her wrist, forcing her to sit down, a pleading expression in her eyes. I shake my head and storm out of the dining hall. Dad shouts at me to stop, but I can’t. I’ve had enough. Walking down the hallway, I frown, lost in my thoughts. Just thinking about Skyla saying she felt sick and tired. Why do I feel Aleric did something? For how long do I st