The sun had barely risen when a firm knock jolted Ryleigh from her sleep. She blinked blearily as the door creaked open, revealing Margaret’s sharp silhouette against the morning light.
"Get up," Margaret ordered, striding into the room with her usual cold efficiency. She carried something in her hand—black, metallic, and small. Ryleigh sat up, confused, as Margaret knelt and clipped it around her ankle. It clicked into place with a finality that sent a chill up her spine.
"What is this?" Ryleigh asked, eyeing the device.
"A tracker," Margaret said flatly. "You’re free to enjoy your days off—but only within the boundaries of the forest town. You stray beyond the perimeter, we’ll know. If you try to escape… the consequences will be severe."
Ryleigh’s heart thudded in her chest, but she
