“Psst!” I shove him. He rocks right back into the same position. I’ve always been a terrible sleeper, whereas Wyn—who never stops moving while awake—sleeps so hard that I used to check his pulse in the night. “Get up!” I shove his shoulder harder. His eyes flutter open, slitting against the half-light of morning. “What?” he grumbles, one eye closing to better focus on me. “What’s wrong?” “What’s wrong?” I hiss back. “How did this happen? How could I let this happen? How could you let this happen?” “Hold up.” He pushes himself up, scrubs his hair back. “Tell me what happened.” “What happened?”
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😂😂😂😂😂😂
