Chapter 12
- ARELLA'S POV
- "Just o-one more year." Mr. Smith, who used to be a good friend of mine, begged. I leaned closer to him while I continued to swirl the pocket knife in my hand.
- "All of this sounds familiar to me," I said. His pupils dilated, and he started shaking his head, but that didn't stop me from stabbing his thigh with the knife, twisting it, wrecking his flesh, and making him bleed more.