As far as anyone on Lavender Island was concerned, I had only ever existed here, in my stripey pants. I was a nice girl from a nice home, with little in the way of skills and the past that shapes everyone—immersive games, immersive lust, a preoccupation with making our rooms our own, a hatred as vague as the thick end of a lighthouse beam that we swoop at anyone that crosses us. My ferocity was leveled at becoming.
