IT WAS ALREADY evening when Luna and Ella separated from the coffee shop. Habang naglalakad si Luna sa may kalsada pabalik sa condo ni Zayden, may mabilis na sasakyang tumigil sa kaniyang gilid.
The door of the van opened.
“Luna Velasco?” a cold voice asked her, from the man who stepped out of the car.
Luna turned to face the man, and everything went black.
Luna woke up groggily, her wrist was sore, and the scent of lavender and wax hit her nose.
Her old room.
Not… It’s not. This was her prison since she stepped into this house.
The soft click of heels against the floor made her chest tighten.
“Lune,” came her mother’s cold and controlled voice. “Sinasabi ko na sa ‘yo, stop playing games. Wala kang mapapala.”
Dahan-dahang tumayo si Luna. “Where’s my phone?”
Hindi sumagot ang kan
