Chapter 23

Once the tears dried out and no liquid in my body seemed to have survived the outpouring, I stared numbly at the stars pricking the black velvet above. Millions of diamonds sparkling in the endless sky like little beacons of hope. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that the door opened behind me. Someone flicked the light on and stepped inside. Guessing it was Gran, I didn’t turn. I was tired. Drained and tired.

“What did you do?” the deep, familiar voice said, ripping me out of the zombielike state.

Startled, I turned around and shifted my gaze to the surprising figure across the room.

Ian was looking at me through narrowed eyes, one of his hands busy holding a beautiful bouquet of daisies—Buffy’s favorite flowers. I’d certainly spoiled any plans he had for tonight, and it showed on his face.

“It’s none of your business,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. He had every right to be angry with me, but he had no right to lecture me in the sanctity of my own room.