Chapter
Chapters
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
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Chapter 9
Kayla Santino.
Fuck. I pull on my hair in frustration and groan.
This person must be in this house. There is no way my grandpa came from Italy with that note in the cookies.
This must be someone from this house, and I will find out who.
Starting with planting secret cameras in my room.
They will re...