Two hours have passed, and this car still hasn't stopped. The stench inside is unbearable - it's like the smell of rotting fish.

I'd been seething with frustration since we were caught. The six of us had been spying on Giselle, and now we were paying the price. 

They'd confiscated our phones, and Giselle was furious, although she was careful to keep her anger in check in front of her father. 

I could tell she was itching for a fight, but instead, she was playing the innocent victim, trying ...