Davina's POV
When I finally stepped off the bus, exhaustion hit me like a brick wall. Every muscle screamed, my skull pounded, and all I craved was to collapse somewhere and pass out cold.
Except this wasn't home.
Not even remotely.
I trudged toward the cramped, strange house and dug through my bag for keys—then remembered I didn't have any.
Shit.
I wasn't adjusted to this reality yet. Back at our old place, I had my own set, a small piece of freedom that let me slip inside whenever I returned from work without disturbing anyone.
But here, in this suffocating space we'd scrambled to find at the last second, I had to knock like some stranger.
I let out a breath and tapped gently on the door.
Nothing.
I knocked harder.
Still dead silence.
Frustration flared in my chest as I yanked out my phone to call Mom. The call failed immediately.
I groaned, pressing my fingers against my throbbing temples. Perfect. The one moment I actually needed to reach her, and her phone was dead.
