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Dinner Confrontation
WYATT
We joined everyone in the dining room twenty minutes later. Kacela had put her long hair in braids and pulled it up on top of her head, looking extremely exotic and mysterious. One skinny braid hung down over her face, somewhat obscuring her scar and blind eye. She forwent her typical hoodie and, instead, put on jeans and a tank top with a cropped sweater over the top. She looked casually regal, if that was a style.
She faltered a moment when she opened the dining room door but the hesitation was momentarily and not noticed by anyone else. She went in and over to the buffet, selecting a sandwich and some chips, bringing them to our typical table. She ignored the silence that had settled the moment she walked in.
Finally, someone broke the silence.
“Why are we eating with a traitor?” he shouted. I frowned, looking around for the heckler. It didn’t take long to ident
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