HAZEL
The infirmary door swung open and Delta came bouncing in like a puppy who'd spotted its owner. Her smile stretched too wide, showing too many teeth.
"I'm so glad you're alive!"
I stared at her. Really looked at her. Delta had always been beneath me. Always. She existed in my periphery the way furniture did—useful when needed, invisible when not. But now we were the same rank. Both Omegas. The word tasted like rot in my mouth.
Her enthusiasm felt wrong. Plastic of you would. Like one of those dolls with the painted-on grins that never quite reached the eyes. She stood there waiting for me to say something, anything. But all I really wanted to do was claw that smile right off her face.
Instead I pushed myself up straighter against the pillows. My body ached in places I didn't know could ache.
"I just want some peace of mind right now." The words came out flat. Emotionless. "Where's my grandmother?"
