Chaotic Evil

|14| "They don't have my dress."

SIDNEY

"What do you think about this one?" I ask, holding up a new dress for Mila to see as she braid her hair for tonight's party.

"It's pretty," she responds, her head bobbing in approval.

"Finally!" A sigh of relief escapes me. "I've been searching for days and hadn't found the right dress until now."

"Where's Sierra?" she asks, glancing at me briefly as she finishes the end of her braid.

"She left early this morning to get her hair done," I reply, watching her nod in understanding.

"Do you think Giselle knows about the party?" I ask, moving to the couch to sit down. I recline, casting a glance at Mila, who is perched at the corner of the living room, her attention now fixed on a mirror.

"Probably not. She's a bit slow," she replies, eliciting a chuckle from me.

"You're right."

"I wish our plan that night had worked," she whispers, a hint of regret coloring her voice.

"Why are you whispering? There's no one else here," I say, curiosity piqued. Then, feeling the weight of our secret, I add, "But yeah, we absolutely can't let her find out. Or else we'll be in serious trouble."

"I can't stand her. She's spent her whole life acting like she's above us," Mila vents, her frustration palpable.

"She's not," I reassure her, trying to offer some comfort as I pick up a magazine from the table and idly flip through its pages.

"I know, but it's just so irritating being around her," Mila confesses, her voice laced with irritation.

"We can't let her start getting suspicious, though. So, we'll have to keep up the act and pretend to be friends with her for at least a couple more months," I advise, thinking about the long game we're playing.

"When you first came up with the idea, I knew it was perfect, especially because she's so trusting. She would have never expected it. It should've worked but then some idiot saved her."

"Did you ever ask her who it was?" I ask, curiosity burning in my chest.

"I did. She said she doesn't know," Mila responds, her tone tinged with skepticism.

"Whoever they are, I hope they don't know what happened that night," I murmur, a shiver running down my spine at the thought of our secret being exposed.

"If they did, they probably would've said something. It's been months, so probably not," Mila speculates, her voice tinged with uncertainty. Just as I'm about to respond, the door bursts open with such force that both of our heads snap in its direction.

"Sierra? You scared us," I call out, but she pays us no mind, her phone pressed to her ear as she paces the room with agitation. Her long brunette hair, usually sleek and straight, now cascades in perfect curls around her shoulders.

Despite being the shortest among us, Sierra possesses a commanding presence, her figure sturdy and her demeanor fierce. Yet today, her skin appears paler than usual, a stark contrast against her dark hair, prompting a furrow of concern to crease my brow. She looks utterly horrified.