. . . . . . . Lexy's P. O. V. . . . . . . . . .

I pushed the door open and ran to my room. I felt angry, felt conflicted and violated in some way.

It was already past 8 and surprisingly, my father was at home. He was seated on the bar stool close to the kitchen exit, calling my name as I sped past him into my room.

" What happened, Alexa? " My dad asked as he stopped at my door, watching me pull off my shoes.

" Nothing Dad. . . . . . I'm just really tired "

" Are...