“Yes, Sir.”
He turned and left the room.
The silence that followed wasn’t abandonment.
It was consequence.
I lay there, body aching, heart exposed.
For the first time, obedience hadn’t been escaping.
It had been accountability.
And I understood then—
This wasn’t forgiveness.
It was the beginning of earning it.
* * *
“PEYTON.”
I gasped, my eyes snapping open.The sharp edge of his voice jolted me awake.Creed stood over me, his expression carved from stone.My stomach dropped.
No.No.No.
I had fallen asleep.
The realization hit harder than the sound of his voice.I’d failed again, quietly, without even meaning to.
His broad shoulders cast shadows against the dim lighting, his gaze drilling into mine with cold precision.
“Did I give you permission to fall asleep?”
His voice was a blade, cutting through the remnants of my groggy haze.
I sat up too quickly, heat rushing to my cheeks.“No, Sir.”
His eyes narrowed.“I gave you specific instructions to sit here and think about the consequences.Did I not?”
I licked my lips, my voice barely above a whisper.“Yes, Sir.”
Creed tilted his head, studying me the way a predator sizes up its prey.
Not angry.
Evaluating.
“So, if you understood the assignment,” he continued, “why were you asleep?”
My pulse thrummed at a frantic pace.The truth pressed up hard and humiliating.
Say it!
“I wasn’t asleep,” I blurted, lying before I could stop myself.“I was in deep thought.”
The lie tasted thin the moment it left my mouth.
