CHAPTER 26

Stella Romilly's pov,

Past

A story told once is a story of truth.

I exited the dining hall and ran after Hannah.

“Hannah,” I called as I searched through the walls. I needed to talk to her. I needed to understand what was happening. Cause I had no idea what was transpiring.

I had no idea Hannah and I could be siblings.

I had no idea my father had gone into the arms of another.

I wanted answers.

But Hannah was already upset.

“Hannah,” my voice went up an octave.

“Leave me alone!” I heard her distant voice from a far corner of the hall I was in.

I wandered around to that place.

“Hannah where are you?” I called.

No answer.

“Where are you?” I pleaded.

“Leave me alone,” her voice was closer. I nagivated through the panes of wood and books arranged in shelves. I passed by the teacher's desk and a random room with only a table and a chair. Hannah was there.

Curled up and crying. Her nose had turned all red.

“What are you crying for?” I asked, genuinely confused.

Her cries progressed