At the back of the auditorium, Cyra hugged her arms as she leaned against the wall. Her eyes flicked from person to person as they moved past her, embedding their faces into her memory. These were the people that she would be surrounded by for at least the next four years. At the very top of her mind was a single question: [i][color=91219e]Can I trust them?[/color][/i]

When the crowd had thinned out more, she grabbed the handle of the large crate that stood next to her and made her way out into the courtyard, tugging her scarf up over her mouth. That question was never far from her mind, and the fact that everyone towered over her did little to ease her nervousness. Nor did the idea of a party appeal to her, conjuring up images of rooms packed with people, bumping into each other and closing off the air. No, that did not appeal to her in the slightest. 

She made her way into the garden area, wondering just what to do with herself. She could go to the ballroom, maybe figure out a safe place for her to sleep, but she didn’t know the way. Not knowing anyone here at all made things even more uncomfortable. [i][color=91219e]What am I supposed to do, Mom?[/color][/i]