Annabelle sat at the small desk in her room, staring at the sleek new laptop glowing faintly in the dim light.

The room was quiet save for the faint hum of the machine, its pristine black surface reflecting her frown.

Anxiety and frustration churned in her chest like a storm.

Her emotions were as tangled as the strands of dark hair she had been nervously twisting around her fingers for the last hour.

The laptop mocked her with its expensive shine.

A reminder of the whirlwind day that had left her mind spinning.

Earlier, Angelo had brought it to her.

Setting it down, he told her that Dante said she...