Layla
“Irena?”
I couldn’t fathom why she would be standing outside of my room at that very moment. It had been weeks since we’d last spoken or seen each other. I felt a brief wave of guilt wash over me for not keeping in better touch with her and Dmitri.
“Yes, dear, it’s me,” she said through the door. “Could you and I chat for a quick moment?”
“I...Uh...H-Hold on,” I squeaked.
I swiftly rushed to the closet to find something suitable to wear. I quickly settled for the first clean pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt. I had no choice but to let my wet hair dry out naturally as I went over to answer the door.
As usual, Irena was dressed impeccably. Her makeup was kept simple and not a single hair on her head was out of place. I, on the other, probably looked like Hell ro
