Raffy walked in the middle of the group, she didn’t lag as to avoid appearing unsociable, but she didn’t walk into the front and risk the possibility of appearing pretentious. Not many said anything, but everyone chipped in and carried some supply in hand – Raffy chose a pack of food to carry. The expert manipulator surreptitiously observed the members of her group, discerning their personalities in the way they handled the situation. Most were grim, as was expected with the awful truth their parents were dead, but there was [i]him[/i]. He took control of the situation, he took responsibility and led the group through the forest – he was the leader, the Ralph, the Odysseus of their little island of misfits. He was the one she should befriend, the one who needed to be swayed first – if she controls him, she controls everything. But she cannot make her move yet. Making her move now would tip her hand, she should wait the night out and then there was the joker. The sarcastic quipping fiend whom seemed to hold onto his self-preservation as fiercely as she did – the class clown was either favored or hated by the class, and if he is favored he will have power. The girl who walked in the very back, all alone, was the loner – she seemed to avoid people and thus was distrustful, she was not needed in the long run unless a sudden personality change leads to her being popular. The foreign woman was not necessary, she could barely communicate and thus would not be able to form strong bonds – communication was key in relationships. 

More was to be said about the group, but there was no time as she had other things to ponder once they stopped for the night. The tents were pitched, the food was served, and a fire was started. Raffy sat silently, choosing carefully to sit next to the Leader Leon – the double L. The Cox heir outstretched her hands towards the fire, resting her elbows onto her knees as she warmed her chilled bones. With the silence stretching across the camp, unbidden thoughts rose to Raphaela’s mind – thoughts of busy parents whom were now nothing but intertwined ashes. What were they doing when they died? What were their last thoughts? Were they of Raffy – were they regrets of impersonal breakfasts and short notes of ‘out late’ and ‘there’s dinner in the microwave’? Part of Raffy hoped so, part of her wished they regretted with every ounce of their being their distance and forced cordiality. But another part desired that they didn’t, that they didn’t think once about her in their hopeless scramble to safety. If they thought of her, if they longed for her, then everything she knew was shattered; her family’s over-independency would crumble and all that would be left was a sniveling girl, alone and desperate for a grasp for control. 

[b]“Delicious, I may say so myself. I’m gonna go catch some zed’s now, so if anyone wants me I’ll be in there,”[/b] Class Clown proclaimed, throwing a flirty wink at Raffy and some other girl. 

Raphaela didn’t know how to react – if she responded with a counter-flirt than she would lose respect, if she reacted negatively than she would make him an enemy, something she didn’t want. She went for neutral, she blinked innocently, but had an artificially warm smile creep onto her face. Hopefully that would satisfy for the time being until her allotted waiting time is over. It seemed the CC – Class Clown – had loosened the group up slightly because another began to make light conversation.

[b]“This evening at home finally makes sense. My name is Michael DeLorenzo and my father is…or was I should say the Sheriff, and yes my mom was Principal DeLorenzo. Anyway he came home tonight and usually the first thing he does when he gets home is get his uniform and into a t-shirt and shorts. Well this evening he just sat on the couch in his uniform with a shotgun on his lap and staring at a family portrait done about two years ago. I was going out and he told me not to worry about a curfew tonight. The way he talked to me. It’s like he knew something was gonna happen tonight and that this was his and my mom’s last night on earth. Whatever he knew or suspected he took it to the grave with him.”[/b] This Michael kid was silent, seemingly praying, and then began once more, [b]“Amen. Anyone else wanna share their first name? We appear to have plenty of time to get to know one another.”[/b]

Raffy figured this was as good as a time as any. [b]“Um, I’m Raphaela Cox – I go by Raffy. I was supposed to inherit Cox Industries…I guess not anymore.”[/b] Raffy laughed weakly, the lie passing through her lips slickly – she still had every intention to owning a company, especially [i]her[/i] company, government be damned. She purposefully left out that her mother was a Politian, it was better to avoid raising suspicions, after all.