I huddled deeper inside the rusty old bus at the edge of the quarry trail, knees pulled to my chest. The broken windows let in the cooling evening air, carrying distant shouts and the sharp crack of gunshots.
My heart wouldn't stop racing. The rope I'd loosely tied around my wrists earlier now lay on the dusty floor beside me. Thalia had helped stage everything — the torn scarf on the trail, the overturned basket with fruits scattered like evidence of a struggle, the fake drag marks leading toward this abandoned bus.
It was supposed to be a harmless prank. A wake-up call for my mates.
After Aquasteine's terrifying accident yesterday and him still forcing himself to work this morning like some invincible woodworker, I was fed up. They hovered constantly, treating me like I would break if I stepped outside alone. "Stay home, Ravine. It's safer." I wanted them to feel the fear I felt this morning, Thalia had laughed when I told her the plan.
