Paloma Perez.
I come down from Mrs. Flora’s space to get some water after working for more than two hours. I'm at the bags now, and it's starting to wear on me. Sorting them is harder than I thought. The endless compartments and categories. Every category feels too narrow or too wide, or somehow both at once. My head's a little foggy from it all.
When I step into the kitchen, I notice Sydney perched at the breakfast nook like a elegant shadow. She must hear my footsteps, because she turns to glance over her shoulder.
“I’ve given your form to Rodrigo.” she says.
My lip forms a smile at her thoughtfulness. “Thank you.”
“It’s best to steer clear of Rebekah. She doesn’t like you.” Sydney swirls her mocktail absentmindedly whilst going through her phone.
At the same time, Grachi walks in
