The heavy wooden door of Room 314 clicked open, and Bella stepped into the warm, familiar confines of her dorm. The steady throbbing between her eyes had finally settled into a dull, manageable ache, thanks to the ice pack and the quiet hour she had spent recovering in the clinic. Her nose was still a bit tender to the touch, and a faint pink tint lingered on her skin, but the cold, suffocating panic that had gripped her in the sports arena had completely receded.
The moment she crossed the threshold, the low murmur of voices in the room abruptly stopped.
Molly and Stella were sitting cross-legged on the plush rug in the center of the room, surrounded by a scatter of unpacked designer clothes, fashion magazines, and half-empty takeout containers. They both snapped their heads toward the
