*Miranda’s POV*
I woke up to the buzzing of my phone on the bedside table. The room was already dark. I heard the voices of my family downstairs along with the clatter of cutlery, as they probably enjoyed supper. The smell of roast beef made my stomach turn. I thought I’d recovered from being poisoned, but apparently I was wrong. The name on my phone’s display read , George. s**t, how long was I out for?
“Hi,” I whispered. The room and the entire first floor were too quiet to speak normally without being noticed, and I didn’t want to be noticed.
“Where are you?” he asked with urgency. “Are you alright?” Moving the phone away from my ear, I glanced at the time. It was already 7PM.
“I’m sorry. I... I fell asleep,” I told him.
“Asleep?” he asked. “Where?”
“At the pack house, in my old
