VALORIA WILDEROSE
Calliope helps me indoors, holding me even after we've left the cold, windy outdoors and I'm soaking her nightgown—up until we're standing right in front of her room and she pushes the door open.
We walk right into the lavish, wide, beautiful room I remember—and right into a previously set-up sleepover I've just unintentionally crashed.
Both Yara and Elodie look up at me from their respective corners—Elodie from the wide bed, reading a magazine with the blaring picture of a half-naked guy on the front cover and an iced tea in her hand; and Yara, from the furthest back, sitting on a bean bag that doesn't fit the aesthetic of the room, watching a movie on her laptop.
There's no surprise or confusion—not even for a second.
"You look rough," Elodie comments with just a hint of interest and a smile, giving me a once-over.
Yara, on the other hand, looks back at her screen completely uninterested.
