The three of them meet after the sing-along. They all look shockingly different, from their hair, their skin, their clothes.
From the moment they make eye contact, though, they know they're siblings. Their eyes are too similar, all filled with that...
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𝗩𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗔 𝗛𝗔𝗗 𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 seen the Pacific Ocean before, but somehow, she knew that the view she was dreaming up was of the California coastline. She could see the dark water, the waves. She was standing on the edge of a cliff, staring at the horizon.
At the base of the cliff, a hundred feet down, was a yacht.
With a sick feeling growing in her stomach, Valentina turned around.
She didn't know what to expect. Luke? Her sisters? A monster army?
Instead, she was on a flat piece of land, stretching along the cliff in either direction. In front of her, she saw a minimalist camp: a couple plain tents and a campfire.
But beyond that . . . her throat clenched.
The only person on the entire cliffside was Bellatrix, a couple of yards away.
Val broke into a run before she even realized that it might not be the best idea. "Bella!" she yelled, sprinting through the barren camp.
As she got closer, she could see Bella more clearly. The girl was struggling under some invisible weight, crouching low to the ground. Her face was red, and beaded with sweat. Val couldn't see what she was holding, but she was panting and exhausted.
"Bella, what—"
Val cut herself off. Her first instinct had been to throw herself to her knees on the ground beside Bella. She wanted to find out what was wrong, and insist Bella come back to camp. This was her chance. Val could save her.
But she stopped herself. She stood just out of reach, eyeing Bella's shuddering form.
"Bella?" She watched, suspicious. This was a dream. The girl couldn't hurt her.
"Val," Bella wheezed out. "You—you're here." Her eyes fell closed. "You need to leave."
Val hated her. She hated Bellatrix Scorfano, her older sister, who'd left her behind and betrayed the camp. She hated her.
But she couldn't stop the brutal sting of rejection that coursed through her body.
"Bella—"
"You have to go," Bella ground out. Her voice was raspy, her lips chapped. Val could see new scars littering her exposed skin–face, neck, arms. "Val—"
"Don't call me that."
"Valentina," Bella pleaded.
Valentina shook her head. She stepped back. She couldn't speak—
Bella looked up at her for the first time. She looked devastated, but Valentina couldn't trust her. She'd betrayed them.
"I'm not going to leave," Val insisted. She didn't know why. She couldn't save her sister, and she didn't want to talk to her. She just . . . couldn't leave.
