So Garrett was right, I had slipped him something, and the odds of me being punished in the morning grew substantially. I felt sick, and about an hour later I had a visitor. “What do you want, dad?” I asked him. He might be so pissed at me that he refuses to help me out now. Plus, I did it to one of the only people that per him, “Could be trusted to help us if things go south. Do not do anything to the Peters family, Reagan. They are in it with us. Do not do anything that will put any of us at risk.” The memory of his words slamming into me right now. I didn't just mess myself up, I messed up his and mom's relationship with them. It really is a complete mess now.
“What did you do?” my dad asked quietly. He knew that a guard would be close-by.
“Dad, I was mad that he chose Cher
