What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?
Celeste couldn't lower her heart rate no matter how hard she tried.
She focused on the lights twinkling from the towering skyscrapers around her or the soft hum of the sports car.
Nothing seemed to work.
She had stolen something of Tiel's, something she assumed held significant meaning.
But if it was nothing, she would have stolen for nothing.
"Here we are," Tiel said, stopping right in front of the Brightwell mansion.
Celeste looked over to Tiel, then nodded with a thankful smile—or at least what she tried to make it look like.
"Here," Tiel said, reaching for something under the chair. It was quite a big box with red wrapping and a white ribbon.
Celeste took it from him, surprised for the umpteenth time that night. He was as pleasant as he was scary.