ADINNA’S POV
Riley grabs my wrist before I can slip outside. Her grip isn’t rough, but there’s a desperate quality to it, as if she knows I’m on the verge of breaking and if she lets go, I’ll scatter into pieces.
“Hey, slow down,” she says, pulling me out of the ballroom and past a group of whispering students who continue to pretend that everything is normal. The music from the ballroom still thumps softly, taunting me with its rhythm. My heart races faster than the bass, and I can’t catch my breath.
Riley doesn’t stop until we reach an unused classroom at the far end of the corridor. It’s dim, with dust floating in the air like fragments of memory. She gently closes the door and turns to me. Her eyes that are usually calm and soft, appear sharp and searching for something beneath
