The sun had barely passed its peak when the sweet hum of wine-soaked laughter spilled out from the pack house courtyard. Anna, draped in a crimson shawl too fine for the occasion, lounged beneath the awning like a queen displaced from her throne, flanked by Lily, Lisa, and two other girls whose smiles were far too sharp to be friendly and far too eager to please.
"I say we raise a toast," Anna purred, her voice thick with venomous honey as she lifted her glass. "To Jasmine finally being gone—and hopefully for good this time."
The girls erupted in delighted giggles, their bracelets clinking like wind chimes as they raised their glasses. The wine in their cups was deep and red, glinting in the light like spilled secrets.
"Do you think she actually ran after him?" Lily asked, her nose wrinkling as she tried—and failed—to stifle a snort. "How desperate can you be?"
