Arya sat on her bed, open letter in hand. The foreign words seemed to dance around, and she could already imagine herself trying to fit in a puzzle of words in its correct place.
Rodriguez had promised her his notes, but she hadn't seen or heard from him for the past half an hour. It seemed like he would be taking more time to search for the book than he had thought.
She decided to freshen up, then went to comb her hair. Looking at the person staring back at her from the mirror, any guilt that she had harbored in sacrificing someone for their youth vanished in thin air. Instead, she became even more determined.
Her reflection looked like a seventy year old woman with dark circles under her eyes, her skin dull, and her hair was just dry. Too dry.
The glow of a twenty five year old had completely vanished, and she looked tired. If sacrificing someone meant looking young and gorgeous, so be it. But with the first full moon in mere days, how will she look for a girl?
