Back to New Orleans

Laura's point of view:

The flight went as quietly as it could be. No one spoke for hours, which was awkward.

Anyway, the good part is that none of them tried to kill each other.

When we landed, right near the airport, a black Mercedes was waiting for us, and a driver handed the car keys to Alan.

Alan, on the other hand, happily drove us back towards my original pack, as two other cars were following us.

I decided not to ask about it since it is normal for royalties to be followed by their bodyguards.

Kind of funny how the place I used to think of as home seems scary, horrifying, and more horrible than what home should be.

How not?

This territory holds all the worst memories from my previous life.

I mean, I was bullied here and got rejected. Add to that I lost my mother and father here. They were both killed in front of my eyes brutally.

The worst part is that I can hate no one but myself since they could both be alive if I wasn't their daughter.

Well, once we arrived at my previous pa