Three days passed, and the dorm stayed unnaturally quiet. Bianca hauled her pile of belongings back in from the hallway. She did everything with soft, deliberate movements. The tantrums had stopped. Even the wounded doe act had been packed away. I did not let my guard down. A sudden turnaround like that never came without a catch.
I had no classes that afternoon. I pushed open the dorm door, walked to my wardrobe, and pulled it open to change. In the far corner of the bottom shelf sat a dust bag I had never seen before. Dark gray, printed with the classic monogram of a luxury house. My fingers touched the leather, and cold traveled up my wrist. In my last life, this thing had been my death sentence. Luxury theft, campus-wide disciplinary notice, the punishment posted across every bulletin
