I enter the mess hall for lunch.
I feel like everyone is watching me.
I grab some meat and beeline for the table where my friends sit.
“Rylie, how’s your nose?” Tomasina jokes the second my backside hits the bench.
Ah, so news of my so-called failing instincts has already spread around the pack-house.
That's just perfect...
“Very funny," I say.
Tomasina leans up on her elbows so our faces are close. “Rylie. Come on. What the heck happened?”
I can't tell her.
I can't tell any of my friends.
They all peer at me expectantly.
I shove meat into my mouth.
"I don't know what happened," I murmur as I chew. "My instincts are usually good.”
Tomasina studies me. "I'll say. You're one of the best gammas out there."
I chew, putting all my focus on the food rather than the burning question
