Molly
We end up at this ridiculously fancy bar not too far from the pack. The kind of place where the chairs look more expensive than my entire wardrobe and the lights are low and warm.
Of course Charles picks this place.
We settle into a corner booth with soft leather seats and a polished wooden table. The place isn’t crowded, which is good because I am not emotionally prepared to deal with drunk strangers today. Soft music plays in the background and everything feels calm and expensive.
Too calm.
Which usually means trouble.
We order drinks. Amber goes for something pink and dramatic. Eric orders whiskey. Charles gets something strong and dark. I order something safe because I still want to be alive tomorrow.
We sit back and relax.
For exactly thirty seconds.
Then Amber turns
