Kenna

Two weeks after . . .

DECEMBER, 25TH.

″Coming!″ I shout as I make my way towards the front door, unlocking it after glancing up at the screen to see a delivery man standing with a piece of paper and a small box in his hands. My eyebrows furrow at the sight of it but I look up to see him smiling at me, gesturing for me to take the box away from his hold and sign the paper.

″I didn’t order anything,″ I frown.

He gazes down at the paper, ″Are you Kenna Anne Ashton?″

″Yes . . . but—″

He cuts me off, ″You didn’t order anything...