Bree
“What are you doing?” Gabriella asked, her tone laced with venom as I stepped into the hut.
I looked up, my eyes scanning the dim space, the tension thick like smoke in the air. Gabriella and her two loyal shadows were lounging around, chatting idly while puffing on vapes that released a sickly sweet scent—something artificial and cloying, like rotting candy.
“I’m gonna lay in bed,” I said simply, pointing toward my assigned bunk. But then my breath hitched.
Three open suitcases—none of them mine—were splayed across my bed like they belonged there. Clothes and accessories scattered in chaotic heaps, as if they'd exploded into place. Meanwhile, my own belongings lay crumpled on the floor next to the door, carelessly tossed aside like garbage. My pillow and duvet were thrown on top
