Hundred and Twelve

After dinner, I found the door to my room ajar.

My heart thudded—not in alarm, but in that slow, sinking way that comes when your gut knows something is wrong before your eyes confirm it.

When I pushed it open, I didn’t scream.

I didn’t gasp.

I just… stared.

Gowns. All of them. Slashed, shredded, ru...