Charis
"You remember everything I told you, right?" Isolde's voice was gentle but firm as we sat in her sleek black car at the school gates.
I nodded, adjusting the strap of my designer bag. The morning sun cast long shadows across the campus, and I could see students streaming toward the main building in their crisp uniforms.
"Good. And remember, darling—you're not Eamon anymore. You're Charis Greye Knox, my ward, and you have every right to be here."
Isolde had managed to convince me to remain in the assigned dorm room after showing me documentation that the system had indeed randomly selected us. Though I still had my doubts about the supposed randomness.
"It's for the best," she'd said. "It saves you the discomfort of adjusting to completely new roommates, and frankly, it gives you natural access to the boys for our mission."
I had nodded then, but now, sitting here in the safety of the car, doubts were beginning to creep in again.
