It was wrapped to-the-nines, although still not as terrifically wrapped as one of my mom’s gifts. I studied the lime green metallic paper, covered in what looked to be diamond-encrusted white stars that reflected every bit of light from my parent’s chandelier. My mother took the box, and I swear I saw her hands shaking as she looked at the tag hanging over one side of the mystery package. “It’s for you, Zoey,” she said, so softly that her voice was almost a whisper. My hand had been resting on Roman’s knee, and at the mention of my name as the recipient, I felt his body jerk. Roman was smart. He’d more than likely caught onto my mom’s change in mood. “Were you expecting this package?” He asked, in a tone that usually indicated the activation of his Dark Knight protective mode. “I was not,” I said, looking at my mom, who I knew was begging me with her eyes to be careful with this box. “In that case, R, I’d like you to check it out first,” Roman said. “I’m way ahead of you, My Prince,”
