Iridian
Jane Doeshort story the dinner partyreading town hallaiden walking deadcoolest girl in town
I grasped the key in my pocket, my finger trailing over the dark marble as I followed Camille and Helena.
"What room are you in, Rachel?" Helena asked, her light voice echoing down the hallway.
I frowned at her before replying, "I have no idea."
"Look at your key, they have numbers on them." Camille chuckled, pulling her own out.
Camille's key was different from my own, small and silver with the number three etched in a seafoam blue. Eying Camille's unique key, Helena pulled hers from her pocket. Helena's key was bronze, the number eleven sat on the key. The number was the color of amethyst and was raised from the dark metal. While Camille's key looked brand new, Helena's seemed old and worn
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