Abigail’s POV
Nathalie was on a roll. She’d been listing out every single detail of Emery’s orders since we left the meeting room, and honestly, I was already over it. 
“We need to get the wine from the back,” she was saying, her voice all serious. “And the fresh juice, then the fruits, and don’t forget—”
“Nathalie,” I cut her off, rolling my eyes. “No one’s going to kill you if you make a mistake, alright? You don’t have to keep repeating everything like your life depends on it.”
Nathalie shot me a look, hands thrown up in mock offense. “No one will kill me?” she said dramatically. “Emery ‘will’! You saw how she looked at us back there. I swear, one mistake, and she’s going to—”
I waved her off, not in the mood for her panic right now. “Yeah, yeah, Emery’s terrifying, I get it. Let’s just get this over with.”
We pushed open the door to the food storage room, the cool air hitting us instantly. Shelves lined with boxes and crates, stacked with everything we’d need for tonight, stretched out in front of us. 
Just as I was about to grab a crate of fruits, Nathalie let out a high-pitched scream, jumping back like something had bitten her. Her scream was so loud it startled me, making me flinch.
“Seriously, Nathalie?” I groaned, slapping her arm. “You scared the hell out of me! What the—”
But then I saw it too—a girl in a black dress, standing completely still in the corner of the storage room. Her face was hidden under a hood or cap thing that seemed connected to her dress, making her look like some creepy nun straight out of a horror movie. 
Nathalie, of course, decided that was her cue to hide behind me. Typical.
“What the hell is that?” she whispered, her voice shaky.
I was too busy trying to figure out what this girl’s deal was. She was just standing there, not moving, not saying anything. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my cool, but honestly, this was weird as hell.
Then, the girl turned around slowly, and we both let out a breath. It wasn’t some freaky ghost or nun—it was just another Black Elite student. Amara.
She had the same blank expression she always did, her eyes half-lidded like she couldn’t be bothered to care about anything. Nathalie, still hiding behind me, decided it was time to go off.
“What the hell, Amara?!” she snapped, stepping out from behind me. “Why are you wearing that creepy dress like it’s nothing? You scared me half to death!”
Amara blinked slowly, like she didn’t even understand what Nathalie was talking about. “I apologize,” she said in that flat voice of hers. “It wasn’t my intention to scare you.”
I sighed, rubbing my temple. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“I was sent by Emery,” Amara said, her tone still as emotionless as ever. “She asked me to check on your progress.”
Nathalie and I exchanged a look, both of us equally confused. “Emery sent you?” Nathalie repeated. “Why?”
Amara’s face didn’t change. “To make sure everything is going according to plan.”
Great. Just what we needed. First James shows up out of nowhere to help Finn and Lucas, and now Amara’s here to observe us like we’re on some kind of reality show. What was Emery’s game this time?
‘Damn it, Emery.’ I thought to myself. ‘What are you playing at?’
I tried to keep my frustration in check, but it wasn’t easy. Something was off—way off. Emery was always calculating, always pulling strings, but this? Sending James to the others, and now sending Amara to us? It felt like she was setting up some kind of test. And I had no idea what the hell we were being tested on.
Nathalie let out an annoyed huff, crossing her arms. “Well, if you’re here to watch us, then stand over there and try not to look like you’re about to jump out and scare us again.”
Amara didn’t respond. She just moved to the side, watching us with that blank, unreadable stare of hers. It made my skin crawl, but we didn’t have time to deal with it. There was too much to do, and the last thing I needed was Emery breathing down our necks for messing something up.
“Come on,” I muttered to Nathalie, grabbing a crate of fruits. “Let’s get this over with.”
She nodded, still grumbling under her breath about Amara’s creepy dress. “I swear, if Emery’s testing us, I’m gonna—”
“Don’t even start,” I said, cutting her off. “Let’s just focus.”
We started loading up the crates with everything we needed—wine, fresh juices, fruits. It was tedious work, but it gave me time to think. My mind kept circling back to Emery, her cold, commanding voice still ringing in my ears from the meeting.
What was she planning? It didn’t make any sense. First James, now Amara. Why was she keeping such a close watch on us? We were just organizing a stupid celebration. There had to be more to it than that.
I glanced at Nathalie, who was still muttering to herself about Amara. Then I looked at Amara, who was just standing there, watching us silently. A chill ran down my spine. Something wasn’t right, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was going to be more than just a celebration.
I caught myself staring at Amara again, trying to figure out if she knew more than she was letting on. But her face was as blank as ever. If she knew anything, she wasn’t giving it away.
Finally, Nathalie broke the silence. “You think Emery’s setting us up for something?”
I didn’t answer right away. “I don’t know,” I said quietly. “But whatever it is, we need to be ready.”
We finished loading up the crates and started carrying them out of the storage room, Amara trailing behind us like a shadow. As we walked down the hall, my mind was spinning with all the possibilities. Emery was playing a game, and we were all just pawns in it.
And the worst part? I had no idea what the rules were.
As Nathalie and I made our way down the hallway, I tried to shake off the uneasy feeling that had been building since the storage room. But then Nathalie started muttering again, this time about how much she hated Amara’s dress.
“I mean, seriously, who wears that?” she whispered, side-eyeing Amara, who was still trailing behind us like some weird, silent bodyguard. “She looks like she’s about to attend a funeral.”
“Maybe she is,” I said dryly. “Ours.”
Nathalie let out a snort, slapping her hand over her mouth like she hadn’t meant to laugh that loud. But it was too late—Amara’s eyes flicked up for a second, and Nathalie’s face went redder than I’d ever seen it.
“What?!” she whispered furiously. “She’s going to tell Emery, and we’re gonna get—”
“Nathalie, chill,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Amara’s not gonna say anything. If she did, she’d have to explain why she’s dressed like a haunted doll in the first place.”
Nathalie bit her lip, trying to hold back another laugh. “Okay, fine,” she muttered. “But if I get in trouble because of this, I’m blaming you.”
“Blame me all you want,” I shrugged. “You’re the one who screamed like we were being chased by a ghost.”
Nathalie gave me a light shove, laughing a little, and I couldn’t help but join in. The whole thing was ridiculous. Here we were, carrying crates of fruits and wine for some random celebration, being watched like hawks by Amara, while trying to figure out what crazy game Emery was playing. It was so stupid it was almost funny.
“I swear, this is all a setup,” Nathalie muttered as we reached the courtyard, still out of breath from laughing. “Emery’s testing us, and we’re gonna fail.”
“Maybe,” I said, glancing around. “But I’m not failing because of some damn fruit crates.”
We stopped for a second, setting down the crates on a nearby bench. Nathalie stretched her arms above her head, letting out a dramatic groan.
“My back is killing me!” she complained, rubbing her lower back like she was eighty years old.
“You’ve been carrying crates for two minutes,” I pointed out. “Get it together.”
She shot me a glare but didn’t argue. “Well, Miss ‘I’m-so-tough,’ why don’t you carry them all yourself?”
“Maybe I will,” I shot back, smirking.
Before Nathalie could come up with a comeback, Amara finally spoke. “Are you two always like this?” she asked, her voice quiet but somehow cutting through our banter.
Nathalie and I exchanged a glance, surprised that Amara had even spoken. She hadn’t said a word since the storage room, and now she was acting like she was part of our conversation?
“Like what?” Nathalie asked cautiously.
“Like children,” Amara said, raising one eyebrow ever so slightly.
Nathalie looked like she didn’t know whether to be offended or burst out laughing again. “Children? We’re just trying to make this... fun, okay? It’s not like we’re at some high-stakes Elite event or anything.”
Amara didn’t respond, just stared at us with that same unreadable expression. Nathalie groaned, throwing her hands in the air. “Great. Now she thinks we’re idiots.”
“Too late for that,” I muttered under my breath, earning another shove from Nathalie.
We grabbed the crates again, but Nathalie couldn’t help herself. “Hey, Amara,” she called back as we started walking toward the food area. “If you want to join in on the jokes, feel free. You don’t always have to be so... intense.”
Amara blinked, her face still blank as ever. “I don’t understand.”
Nathalie groaned again, louder this time. “That’s exactly my point! Lighten up a little! We’re carrying fruit, not disarming a bomb!”
I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Amara’s blank stare wasn’t helping, though, and neither was Nathalie’s exaggerated frustration. 
“Let’s just get this done,” I said, trying to keep the peace. But Nathalie wasn’t letting it go.
“Seriously, Abigail, how is she like this all the time?” she muttered as we finally made it to the setup area. “It’s like she’s allergic to fun.”
“She’s a Black Elite,” I said. “I don’t think they’re allowed to have fun.”
Nathalie giggled at that, though she quickly composed herself as Amara set her cold gaze on us again.
The rest of the walk was mostly silent, though Nathalie kept whispering snide comments under her breath about Amara’s “funeral dress” and how she was probably sent by Emery to make sure we didn’t have any fun at all.
When we finally reached the room Garden of Life, we set the crates down and took a moment to stretch. Nathalie let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Finally. Now we can get this over with.”
Amara, as usual, said nothing, just stared at the crates like they were somehow important. I rolled my eyes. ‘Great,’ I thought. ‘Another round of 'Emery's Secret Game.'’
“Alright,” I said, clapping my hands together. “Let’s get to work.”
As we started organizing the food, Nathalie leaned in closer to me, whispering in a tone that was probably louder than it should’ve been. “You think Emery’s really watching us?”
I shrugged, pretending to be more focused on the fruit than the question. “I don’t know. But if she is, she’s probably laughing at how freaked out we are.”
Nathalie sighed dramatically. “I swear, I’m going to lose my mind by the end of this night.”
“Too late for that,” I smirked, causing her to slap my arm playfully.
Amara stood by quietly, still watching us. I could almost hear her thoughts—cold, calculating, and completely detached. 
“Let’s just hope this all goes smoothly,” I muttered to myself, already feeling the weight of the night pressing down. But as much as I tried to stay focused, something in the back of my mind told me Emery wasn’t done messing with us. 
Not even close.
---
The room was filled with the low hum of chatter as Nathalie, Amara, and I sorted through the last of the crates. Nathalie was still going on about her back, moaning dramatically every time she bent down to move something. I swear, if she wasn’t such a close friend, I might’ve taped her mouth shut by now.
“Ow, my back!” Nathalie whined, rubbing the small of her back for the hundredth time.
I rolled my eyes for what felt like the millionth time today. “Nathalie, I swear, you’ve turned into an old woman overnight.”
She shot me a look. “You try carrying heavy crates all afternoon and see how your back feels, Abigail.”
“Yeah, well, you’re making it seem like we’re carrying boulders, not a few crates of food,” I teased, tossing an apple into one of the baskets.
We both laughed, but then the sound of familiar voices reached our ears, Lucas’s voice, to be exact. He was complaining about something again, and this time it was about how bad the Elites’ rooms smelled. His voice echoed down the hall as he and Finn entered the room, James trailing behind them.
“…I’m telling you, Finn, it’s like walking into a garbage dump. I don’t care how powerful they are, no one should live like that. It’s disgusting.”
Finn nodded, though he looked like he wasn’t really paying attention. He had that calm, almost zoned-out look he got sometimes, the kind where you couldn’t tell if he was actually listening or just letting Lucas vent for his own sake.
I raised an eyebrow as Lucas continued to rant, his voice carrying over to our side of the room.
“You wouldn’t believe it,” he muttered as they finally reached us. “Some of those Elites, I swear, I think they forget what cleaning supplies are for. The whole room smells like feet and something died in there. And don’t even get me started on—”
“Are you done yet?” Nathalie cut in, grinning. “Or do you need more time to rant about the state of the Elite rooms?”
Lucas gave her a mock glare. “You’d complain too if you had to deliver invitations to those… swamps.”
Nathalie groaned, still rubbing her back. “Well, I’d trade your stinky rooms for these crates any day. My back feels like it’s going to snap in half.”
“You know,” I said, pretending to think for a second, “I feel like I’ve heard you mention your back a ‘few’ times today, Nathalie.”
She shot me a look, but before she could say anything, we were all interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open. Everyone’s attention snapped toward the entrance as Noah strolled in, wearing his usual shorts and clean polo, looking way too casual for someone who was supposed to be, you know, terrifying.
He waved at us, a big, fake-looking grin on his face. “Hey, guys. How’s it going?”
Finn sighed heavily, the sound barely audible, but I caught it. “Here we go again,” he muttered under his breath, leaning closer to Lucas, Nathalie, and me. “Get ready for another round of his ‘hard jokes.’”
I bit my lip to stop myself from giggling, and Nathalie had to quickly hide behind a crate to avoid bursting into laughter. Lucas, on the other hand, gave us all a warning look, his eyes wide as if to say, ‘Don’t ruin this.’ He whispered quickly, “Just laugh, okay? Don’t make it weird. Or else he’ll cry about not being a good clown.”
That was it—Nathalie lost it, snorting as she tried to cover up her laughter. Even I couldn’t hold back, my shoulders shaking with silent laughter as Noah approached, oblivious to what was happening.
“Everything alright over here?” Noah asked, his voice too cheerful, like he was trying way too hard to be casual.
“Yeah, yeah, everything’s great,” Lucas replied quickly, putting on the fakest smile I’d ever seen. “Just, you know, finishing up the last of the tasks.”
Nathalie was still shaking with laughter behind me, and I had to kick her lightly in the shin to get her to pull herself together. Noah didn’t seem to notice, thankfully. Or maybe he did and was just pretending not to. Who knows with him?
Noah clapped his hands together. “Good, good. Well, make sure to help the others if they’re getting tired. We’re all in this together, after all.”
I exchanged a look with Finn, and he raised an eyebrow as if to say, ‘Seriously?’ We both knew Noah couldn’t care less about anyone else’s exhaustion. This whole “team spirit” thing was just an act.
“Of course,” Lucas said, nodding along, though I could see the struggle in his eyes to keep up the fake enthusiasm. “We’ll make sure to pitch in wherever we can.”
Noah grinned again, his eyes scanning the room like he was trying to read the vibe. “Good to hear. Keep up the good work, everyone.”
Noah then raise his hand when I caught sight of something on his wrist. A bracelet, made of a simple blue string with small beads. My heart skipped a beat. It looked so familiar. Too familiar.
As he clapped his hands together, something clicked in my mind, and suddenly, the room felt too small. My breath caught, and I froze, staring at that bracelet like it was a ghost from my past. Why was it there? Why did he have it?
"Abigail?" Lucas’s voice cut through the fog, and I turned to him, blinking rapidly. He was looking at me with a mix of confusion and concern. "You okay?"
Nathalie, always the nosy one, leaned over, her brow furrowing. "What’s going on with her?"
I couldn’t answer them. My mind was spinning, my head starting to pound. That bracelet. The nightmare I’ve had for years—the one where I was playing with a boy, laughing, and at the end of the day, I gave him a bracelet. Just like the one on Noah’s wrist.
My vision blurred, and it felt like the ground was shifting beneath me. My head throbbed, and the voices around me became muffled. ‘What is happening?’ I thought, clutching my temple. The dizziness grew stronger. Everything became too loud and too quiet all at once.
Before I could process anything else, my legs buckled. The room spun wildly as I felt myself collapse. But instead of hitting the floor, I landed in Lucas’s arms, his grip tightening around me to stop the fall.
“Whoa, Abigail!” Lucas shouted, panic flashing in his eyes. “Abby, what’s wrong?”
I could barely make out the sounds of their voices, fading in and out like they were coming from far away. My vision was a swirl of colors and shapes, and the faces of my friends blurred together. I heard Nathalie gasp, probably more dramatic than the situation needed.
“Is she okay? What’s happening?” Finn’s voice came from somewhere, filled with concern, but I couldn’t focus on anything anymore.
"Someone call for help!" Nathalie yelled, though she sounded more panicked than usual, which honestly would have made me laugh if I wasn’t, you know, on the verge of passing out.
In the haze, I saw Noah standing there, still with that fake smile, looking confused. His bracelet glinted under the light, and that’s when everything went black. The last thing I heard before everything faded was Nathalie freaking out and Lucas shouting my name. 
The nightmare was back. The boy, the bracelet, the memory of that day… but why now? Why here?
---
The soft warmth of the sun tickled my skin, and I could hear the distant sound of children laughing. I blinked slowly, the bright light blurring into shapes. I was back at the playground, the one I used to go to as a kid. But something was different. It felt too real.
There, on the swings, was ‘him.’ The boy I always dreamed about. His messy hair, the way he kicked his legs back and forth like he didn’t have a care in the world. But this time, I could see his face clearly. My heart clenched, recognizing it now. It was Noah. Noah Aurorium.
I wanted to say something, ask him what was going on, but no words came out. Instead, I just stood there, like I was stuck in my child-self, unable to connect the dots of my present. 
“Abigial!” His voice was light, innocent. He hopped off the swing, running toward me with a grin, holding out his hand. “Come on, let’s go climb the jungle gym!”
I followed without thinking, almost as if I was that same little girl again. We scrambled up the jungle gym, laughing as we reached the top. But then, Noah’s face changed. His smile faded, and he looked sad, almost like he was carrying a weight too heavy for a kid.
“My mom,” he whispered, sitting down next to me. “She’s sick. Really sick.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just listened, watching as his eyes filled with tears. 
“She’s been sick for a long time. She’s… she’s still asleep in our house.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “She’s been sleeping for years.”
A pang of sadness hit me as I watched him struggle with his words. He was just a kid, and this was too much for him. ‘Too much for anyone.’
“Dad’s trying to find a way to wake her up. He’s been looking everywhere. He’s even experimenting on stuff. That’s why he’s never home.”
I froze. ‘What?’ Experimenting? Searching for a cure? I didn’t understand what he was saying. But then he said something that made everything twist in my mind.
“I have a little sister,” Noah added, his voice quiet. “She’s two years younger than me. Her name’s Emery. She… she hates me. But I know she cares. She just doesn’t know how to show it.”
‘Emery?’ My mind raced. ‘Of course it's his sister.’ ‘Noah’s only sister.’ I shook my head, confused, trying to piece it all together. But it didn’t make sense.
“There’s a cure out there somewhere,” Noah continued, his voice breaking my thoughts. “Dad said we’re close to finding it. He’s doing everything he can.”
My head swirled, the pieces falling into place. ‘Noah, Emery, their father… experiments…’ This was too much. I needed to ask him more, I needed to understand, but before I could say anything, the world around me started to blur.
“No, wait!” I tried to grab onto him, my hand reaching out to stop him from fading away, but it was too late. The playground, the swings, the jungle gym—everything was slipping away, like sand through my fingers. “Noah!” I screamed. “I need to ask you—”
And then, darkness.
I jolted awake, gasping for breath. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to gather my bearings. I wasn’t in the playground anymore. I wasn’t in the past. I was back. In the present.
I glanced around, my eyes focusing on the soft light of the room. Lucas was sitting next to me, his head resting against the side of the bed. He was holding my hand tightly, even in his sleep. The sight of him made my heart ache, but in a good way.
I tried to shift, the dull pain in my head reminding me of what had happened, but the movement was enough to wake him. His eyes fluttered open, and the worry in them returned instantly.
“Abby?” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper. “Are you okay? Does your head still hurt?”
I didn’t know how to answer him. The pain was there, but it wasn’t just physical. It was everything else—the memories, the confusion, the questions that still swirled in my mind.
“I’m… I’m fine,” I managed, though my voice sounded far weaker than I wanted it to. “Just… tired.”
Lucas didn’t look convinced. He shifted closer, still holding onto my hand. “You scared the hell out of us, you know. You just… collapsed.” His brow furrowed, and I could see the concern written all over his face. “What happened?”
I shook my head, not ready to talk about it yet. “I don’t know,” I whispered, my thoughts still lingering on that bracelet. Noah. Emery. Their mom.
‘What the hell is going on?’
Lucas didn’t push me for answers, but I could tell he was worried. He stayed close, his hand squeezing mine gently, like he was afraid to let go. And for now, I didn’t want him to.
The questions would have to wait. But deep down, I knew I couldn’t avoid them forever. Noah’s bracelet, the dream… something wasn’t right, and I needed to figure it out. Soon.