Margaux
The alarm on the small touchscreen phone cut through the dark before dawn. I rolled off the narrow mattress, the stone floor biting cold through my socks, and quickly pulled on my grey uniform. My neck still throbbed with a residual, dull heat from the night before, right where Margot's old burn mark sat. It was a lingering warning I couldn't shake.
Remembering Garrett's warning about the five o'clock deadline, I left my room and navigated the dim, quiet corridors.
Near the laundry wing, I ran into Cherry. She was shuffling along, her shoulders slouched and her eyes barely half-open. She let out a yawn so wide her jaw clicked.
"Good morning, Cherry," I said quietly.
She rubbed her eye with the heel of her hand and blinked at me. "Morning, Mara."
"You look exhausted."
"I am.
