Elena’s POV

Morning light had barely broken through the thin curtains when pounding rattled my dormitory door.

“Elena!”

The voice was sharp, grating, unmistakable.

I rolled my eyes and pulled the blanket tighter around me. But before I could even reach the door, it burst open, and Margaret swept in like a storm, her heels clicking across the shabby tile floor as if each step was an insult.

She wrinkled her nose. “Moon goddess, this place. How do you stand it?” Her gaze swept the ...