The heat of anger that Arwen felt in her core was unexplainable. The moment she heard Ryan asking her to return back the diary, she wanted to scoff loudly and ask him how dare he even think of asking it back from her.
Her fingers clenched into fists, and she was no longer able to hold herself back. Turning to face him, she asked, "Return it to you?" Her tone was cold and piercing.
Ryan flinched and staggered a step back. The way her eyes turned fierce scared him. "I … I …"
"Mr. Foster," Arwen cut him off, "a thing could only be returned to someone if it belongs to them. And I don't I have anything yours to begin with. That diary is mine, and it can't be returned. I hope I made myself clear here." Her eyes weren't just fierce; they carried a warning —a warning for Ryan to understand his limits and abide by them.
