Why won't you admit when you're wrong?

Priscoll immediately got up and ran after me, following me upstairs to my room. I tried to shut the door behind me, but he was too quick. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and concern.

I backed away from him, scared and unsure of what he was going to do. "Go away, Priscoll," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

But Priscoll didn't listen. He took a step closer to me, his eyes locked on mine. "Why did you run away, Joanna?" he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls. "What's going on? Why won't you talk to me?"

He grabbed my chin, his fingers digging into my skin. I tried to pull away, but he held me firm. "Tell me, Joanna," he demanded. "What's going on?"

I tried to talk, but tears filled my eyes. Priscoll stared at me, his expression softening. He opened his arms and hugged me, holding me close as I cried.

"It's okay, don't cry," he whispered. "Why did you run away? I was looking for you, baby."