Chapter 2

I packed up my bag and headed for the door, leaving the noise of the classroom behind me.

Three girls hurried after me, looking slightly nervous.

"Nina, we looked up the market rate for Alvor trips on our own. Three thousand dollars is completely fair. Your family's agency has always had a great reputation—top-tier accommodations, meals included, full medical and security staff, and no forced shopping stops.

"We're too scared to go backpacking. The thought of something going wrong on the road terrifies us. We want to sign up for your family's licensed tour. Is that okay?"

I nodded and agreed without hesitation.

I remembered these girls. In my previous life, they had stayed neutral the entire time. They never piled on with the insults, and they never trashed my name after I died. They were not part of the ungrateful crowd.

Before long, three more girls came over on their own to sign up. Including me, that made seven of us in a small, licensed tour group.

On the other side of the room, Phoebe was in full swing, tallying up headcount for the backpacking trip. She had collected 33 sign-ups. Most of them were boys who liked jumping on whatever bandwagon was loudest.

There were also a handful of girls who wanted to take enough photos to build a social media following off the trip. Between them, the list covered almost every single person who had turned on me in my past life.

When Phoebe found out I had put together a seven-person premium tour, she laughed openly at the six girls.

"Some people just have more money than sense. They just love throwing it away. Two hundred dollars or 3,000 dollars, you're looking at the same mountain at the end. When we get there safe and sound, you'll wish you hadn't wasted all that cash.

"Nina's treating you like walking wallets and you don't even see it!"

The rest of the students around her joined right in with the jeering.

"Paying for a tour package is basically paying an idiot tax. You're just letting the agency fleece you."

"If you've got money to burn, you'd have more fun backpacking with us."

I looked at this crowd of blindly overconfident teenagers and felt nothing but contempt. Thirty-three of them marching into the Barrens together… I did not want to picture how that would end.

I turned to the six girls traveling with me and gave them a few instructions.

"Just pack warm layers, sunglasses, and an insulated water bottle. That's all you need to bring. Give me your IDs and I'll handle the frontier permits for everyone. As for oxygen tanks, medication, and outdoor gear, the agency will have all of it ready."

A boy nearby overheard the words 'frontier permit' and immediately scoffed.

"You don't even need a frontier permit if you take the back roads. That's a total waste of time. Spending money just to spend it. Must be nice being rich."

Laughter broke out again. I did not respond.

I set the departure for three days later at 8:00 am, and we would be meeting at the front gate of the school. Then, I turned and walked out of the classroom without looking back at the noise behind me.

Every one of them was lost in their cheap fantasy of freedom. None of them knew that the wilderness was already waiting.

I went home and told my parents about the seven-person student tour. My family had been running highland travel routes for over a decade and understood every risk along the way. My parents did not cut a single corner on the safety preparations.

My parents arranged two full-time guides with ten years of Ridgeline experience each, two certified highland emergency medics to ride with the group at all times, and two professional security personnel for protection throughout the trip.

The convoy consisted of five brand-new four-wheel-drive SUVs. Two carried our group of seven passengers. The other three were loaded entirely with emergency supplies.

Each vehicle was stocked with triple the necessary drinking water and high-calorie rations, along with heavy-duty down parkas and extreme-weather sleeping bags.

Medical-grade oxygen tanks, altitude sickness medication, and trauma first-aid kits were all packed and ready, and the convoy carried multiple satellite phones and satellite GPS beacons.

Dad was serious when he spoke.

"There's no cell signal through the entire stretch of the Barrens. All navigation goes dead. In extreme weather, even a compass can fail. The only thing you can rely on out there is the guides reading the stars to find direction. Supplies cannot run short."

I was going through the equipment checklist when someone knocked on the front door. I opened it to find Wyatt and Phoebe standing outside, one behind the other.