Chapter 89

Reilley's POV. Deavon is not answering my calls. Not even my messages. Having no fucking idea of where he could be right now is driving me crazy. I've seen the news, but they're no help at all. They're not telling me where Deavon is. I'm the reason why he's getting feasted by these hungry reporters, but why are they neglecting my statements. I want to use my voice to clear his name. For the rape case, at least. "You haven't been eating. You look terrible. Your mom will not like that," Trevor said. He's been telling me to eat the porridge he bought outside, but I just don't have the appetite to do so. All I want to do right now is stare at my phone and wait for his call. "I really don't understand why you're still clinging to him. He admitted himself. He killed that gir—" "It was an accident," I corrected him. He clenched his jaw. "Accident or not. The mere fact that he evaded the law for five years when he can do something about it is already and enough reason for you to unlove him. Bu