I'm staring at the wreath in my hands. A small note has been attached.
RIP Layla.
I pull off the note before racing from the room. The hallways are pretty much empty. Three people approach, and one by one, I stop them.
I block the pathway of the first man. He tries to step around me, but I don't allow the movement as I pull down his collar, checking his neck for tattoos.
"What are you doing? Get off me!" The man fixes his shirt back in place after I release him.
I keep walking until I reach the
