Liora
Mia was heavier than I expected.
Not a dig—just reality. Dragging her behind me through muddy gardens wasn’t easy.
“Don’t look back!” I shouted, yanking her around a hedge. But I looked. Of course I did.
Jessica and her pack of glass-smiled wolves, storming through the garden in silk gowns and stilettos like a fever dream. But instead of flowers, they carried scissors. Instead of grace, jars of red ink sloshing like blood.
“Faster!” I shouted, hiking up my dress as their screams rang out behind us.
We tore through hedges and flagstones, heels slamming, skirts flying. Mia kept pace beside me, bun unraveling like a white flag.
Startled couples scattered from there snuck away moments in the hedges, and smokers leapt aside as we tore through with yelps.
“You little LIAR!” Jessic
