CLARK POV:
After breakfast, things moved fast. Before I could even blink, the group of new students—freshmen like me—were being ushered into this large theater-style room. It reminded me of a mini cinema, except there were no movie posters, no popcorn smells. Just rows and rows of seats and that clean, sterile smell of freshly waxed floors and air-conditioned air.
Everyone was buzzing with excitement. A few students were already recording things on their phones, while others laughed and took selfies in the low, stage-lit ambiance. You could practically taste the nerves mixed with excitement. This was the first real official thing at Memoville, and everyone wanted to make a good first impression—even if it was just to blend in.
I took a seat somewhere near the middle and tried to appear calm. Normal. Unbothered. Which would've been easier if my mind wasn't still replaying everything from last night. Lucas's face. His fear. His shaking hands. The way he'd whispered monsters.
