Angelica's POV
A week has passed, and Nate and I have been doing pack work while we were locked in the bedroom. He had been really understanding when I didn't want to go and socialize with the others, especially Johnson. His uncanny resemblance with his father just sends chills down my spine. I don't even know why I'm being like this even though I know it wasn't Johnson who did it. Maybe he reminds me too much of their father right now. Their father warned me that if I spoke to a soul about this, he would know where to find me even if I ran away and killed me. Either way, I would end up dead with his hands.
I rolled around on the bed and saw Nate still fast asleep. A part of me feels guilty for everything that happened, and there's not a single day where I wouldn't blame myself for every
