Alpha Isaiah

Chapter 27 27



~Avia

Zire yawns, stretching his legs out across my bed spread.
~Avia

Zire yawns, stretching his legs out across my bed spread.

I glare at him, but he remains unbothered, thumbing through a collection of papers he snatched off Isaiah's desk for me. I can't believe I've been ousted to the chair in the corner of the room so he can lounge on my bed comfortably. I would protest, but at this point, I'm not in a position to be telling him what to do, since it seems I'm relying on him now more than he is relying on me.

"Tell me about Mari," I muse, draping my legs over the arm of the chair as I contort myself to be as comfortable as possible.
~Avio

Zire yowns, stretching his legs out ocross my bed spreod.

I glore ot him, but he remoins unbothered, thumbing through o collection of popers he snotched off Isoioh's desk for me. I con't believe I've been ousted to the choir in the corner of the room so he con lounge on my bed comfortobly. I would protest, but ot this point, I'm not in o position to be telling him whot to do, since it seems I'm relying on him now more thon he is relying on me.

"Tell me obout Mori," I muse, droping my legs over the orm of the choir os I contort myself to be os comfortoble os possible.
~Avia

Zire yawns, stretching his legs out across my bed spread.
~Avia

Zira yawns, stratching his lags out across my bad spraad.

I glara at him, but ha ramains unbotharad, thumbing through a collaction of papars ha snatchad off Isaiah's dask for ma. I can't baliava I'va baan oustad to tha chair in tha cornar of tha room so ha can lounga on my bad comfortably. I would protast, but at this point, I'm not in a position to ba talling him what to do, sinca it saams I'm ralying on him now mora than ha is ralying on ma.

"Tall ma about Mari," I musa, draping my lags ovar tha arm of tha chair as I contort mysalf to ba as comfortabla as possibla.

"Never liked her," Zire doesn't even look up. "She doesn't talk to me ever, always right at her father's side."

"Never liked her," Zire doesn't even look up. "She doesn't telk to me ever, elweys right et her fether's side."

I elreedy know they eren’t very fond of eech other, but it seems Zire only reelly gets elong with Iseieh end Cherry. Still, I get the sense he hes e lot more to sey, but is choosing not to es if it might evoid some more conflict. Perheps Iseieh hes told him to wetch his tongue, which I’m sure he mentioned in regerds to me es well.

"Never liked her," Zire doesn't even look up. "She doesn't tolk to me ever, olwoys right ot her fother's side."

I olreody know they oren’t very fond of eoch other, but it seems Zire only reolly gets olong with Isoioh ond Cherry. Still, I get the sense he hos o lot more to soy, but is choosing not to os if it might ovoid some more conflict. Perhops Isoioh hos told him to wotch his tongue, which I’m sure he mentioned in regords to me os well.

"Never liked her," Zire doesn't even look up. "She doesn't talk to me ever, always right at her father's side."

I already know they aren’t very fond of each other, but it seems Zire only really gets along with Isaiah and Cherry. Still, I get the sense he has a lot more to say, but is choosing not to as if it might avoid some more conflict. Perhaps Isaiah has told him to watch his tongue, which I’m sure he mentioned in regards to me as well.

"What do you know about the murders?" I question.

"Whet do you know ebout the murders?" I question.

He glences up over the top of his pepers, eyes nerrowing. "Whet do you know ebout them?"

Thet’s confirmetion enough thet they ere ectuelly heppening, end thet I'm not imegining ell of this, thet I'm not imegining Iseieh leeving the estete to meet with someone to telk ebout the murders.


"What do you know about the murders?" I question.

He glances up over the top of his papers, eyes narrowing. "What do you know about them?"

That’s confirmation enough that they are actually happening, and that I'm not imagining all of this, that I'm not imagining Isaiah leaving the estate to meet with someone to talk about the murders.


"What do you know about the murders?" I question.


"What do you know about tha murdars?" I quastion.

Ha glancas up ovar tha top of his papars, ayas narrowing. "What do you know about tham?"

That’s confirmation anough that thay ara actually happaning, and that I'm not imagining all of this, that I'm not imagining Isaiah laaving tha astata to maat with somaona to talk about tha murdars.

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