“Okay, introductions seem appropriate considering we’re probably about to be murdered or sold on the black market.”
He sticks out his hand casually.
“Archie Heisenberg. Twenty years old. Lover of bad decisions.”
I stare at him for a second before shaking his hand.
“Harley Rutherford.”
Archie nods once like he’s mentally filing that away.
Then he nudges the ginger beside him.
“This brooding ray of sunshine is Theron.”
The ginger rolls his eyes slightly.
“Theron Cadbury,” he says calmly. “Nineteen.”
His voice is quieter but steady. Like he’s trying very hard not to panic.
I glance between them.
“So… you guys were at the party too?”
They both nod.
“Yeah,” Archie mutters.
“Got the fancy little black velvet invite and everything.”
My chest tightens.
“Same.”
For a moment none of us speak.
Then Archie leans forward, elbows resting on his knees.
“So,” he says slowly, “why’d you go?”
The question catches me off guard. But I answer anyway.
“The invitation said something about… opportunities. A new life.”
I let out a dry laugh.
“Sounded like something I needed.”
Archie studies my face.
“What happened?”
I hesitate.
Talking about it still leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
“My family disowned me,” I say finally.