Chapter 23: Hope
I didn’t have a plan. I just knew I had to act now.
My heart pounded as I ran to the front of the common room, ignoring the protests from my friends behind me.
"Lorraine, don’t—"
"Wait, what are you doing—?"
I didn’t stop.
I climbed up onto one of the battered tables at the center of the room. The legs wobbled under me, and the ferals barely spared me a glance, still grumbling about lost dorm points and the stench that clung to the air like death.
No one noticed me. No one listened.
I opened my mouth to speak, and was drowned out by a dozen conversations, angry muttering, hopeless sighs, the clatter of mops and buckets being passed around.
No one cared. Not yet.
So I jumped back down, snatched a metal pot and a rusted spoon from the kitchen shelf, climbed back up, and slammed them together.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
The room jolted. Heads turned.