That night, I can’t sleep. I lay in the darkness listing to Vittoria’s rhythmic breathing on her bunk across the room. I replay the conversation with Petrus in my head over and over, picturing the look on his face. I’d never seen him so rattled before.
The alarm drills over the intercom again and Vittoria stirs. I stir too, feigning that I’ve just awoken. As the ceiling lights in our pod start to brighten, I stretch my arms over my head and climb out of bed. We go through our morning routine in silence, padding down the hall in bare feet carrying our toiletry bags. 
Panic rises in my chest when I enter the bathroom with the other girls. The room feels closed off, nothing but cold tile and mirrors. I stand at a sink and look at myself in the mirror, noticing the girls walki...

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