Lissa.
It is Sunday, 4:30 in the morning, and I am unable to sleep because of the guilt.
Guardian Belikov is, I know, sitting outside my door, as wide awake as I am. I begged him to rest, but he didn't listen.
He must be feeling guilty, too, though I'm not sure why.
God, I ruined his life. I shouldn't have told them. I should've just kept my big mouth shut and waited for Rose to get better. But I didn't know if she would ever get out of that coma, and what else could I do? Guardian Hathaway had freaked out when the nurses told her that Dimitri had spent the first two days in Rose's room, waiting for her to wake up. So she came to me, because she wanted the truth.
Yeah, well. I should've known better than to spill my guts to her.
Poor Guardian Belikov. No one will talk to him anymore, because, well, Guardian Hathaway spent around 30 minutes shrieking at him – and of course everyone else was listening attentively while she did so. So we all know, and who's supposed to be his friend now? Adrian's jealous as hell, Rose's parents are disgusted and Christian… Well, neither one of us can get over the age difference and just talk to him.
I mean, seriously. I can barely bring myself to call the guy by his first name – how in the name of heaven am I supposed to have a tête-à-tête with him?
I creep to the door and stand there for a moment, listening. Good Lord, is he crying?
Before I can convince myself not to, I open the door. Guardian Belikov's aura is the darkest blue I have ever seen, darker than an ocean's bottomless pit. Darker than sorrow itself.
I place a hand on his shoulder, but he is too proud to look at me.
"Come on. We need to talk," I say, and he nods and follows me into my room, where we exchange stories of our beloved Rose until the dawn tints my windows red.
So now you know why everyone knows about the cabin and hates Dimka.
Merry Christmas, people!