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once a week?
    Eva inwardly groaned.
    She looked at her phone, flipping it open, realising she’d already received a message.
    The message … that would be her last. That didn’t seem possible.
    Thea had been blabbing on excitedly about waiting to hear how she’d been going and Michelle, she’d be eager to have someone to talk to.
    Her inbox bar lit up with a message from Thea.
    Eva:) Missing you my little sis! I’ll be waiting by the phone all night for your call! So be prepared to spill the beans! Oh and don’t forget to fill me in on all the latest gos to…..
    Eva clamped the phone shut with her sweaty palm and slipped it back in her pocket, wishing she’d never read it.
    Typical Thea fashion. Thoughtful and sweet of her. Except this time, unknowingly, she’d made Eva feel worse about herself. Her crappy phone had cut the message three lines in. In a way, Eva was almost relieved that she didn’t have hear about how everything had changed since she’d left, how everyone had moved on so quickly and how much fun life back home was.
    Eva swallowed the lump in her throat. She felt guilty and selfish all of a sudden. It was her fault she had left her best friend. And now that she’d learned of the harsh 1 call a week rule, her life had just got a whole lot worse. Cutting a girl off her family was bad enough, but cutting off the only connection Eva had to the outside world and Thea, broke her heart. A sudden loneliness pinched her chest and realised she was going to have to settle here well, otherwise she’d be torn in misery the whole time.
    The attendant clicked her fingers sharply, making sure she had her direct attention. She either hadn’t seen her phone, or wasn’t interested.
    Eva was curious of the woman’s character. Had she smiled at someone – ever? It was a little hard to picture it. Her thin painted mauve lips were drawn in a black line deficient of hooks at the corners. Since Eva had met her, she’d done all the barking with no hint of a smile. Her voice was grating and slightly condescending: borderline of the characteristic deep male edgy voice. It made sense, strangely enough, that she hadn’t given her a warm welcome, her voice wasn’t good for that. Eva spontaneously felt the rising urge to laugh, but the straight, dead set serious expression of the woman, rooted Eva to the spot, preventing it. She had the judge expression, the tough nut to crack sort of character.
    “Oh and remember timing especially .” She said. You were late and you’re lucky I didn’t feel like snapping at you today.” Hardly , Eva thought, remembering how she’d barked at her from moment she met her. “Around here, I’ve got no time for stragglers.”
    In a split second, the woman’s eyes flitted over Eva’s outfit in what looked to be disapproval at Eva’s white peplum top and high waisted denim jeans as if she was wearing something vile.
    Or Eva was too dressed up for this place. Black clothing, tattoos and roughness seemed to be a thing here. Compared to everyone Eva had seen so far, who tended to dress complementary to Comb Bank’s gloomy historic presentation, she was a stand out. As far as she was concerned, that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. After five minutes of walking around a subsection of the reform school, all she wanted was to blend in to everybody else.
    “Eva?” The attendant waved a fussy hand at her. “It’s not time to daze off on your first day here. There’s a lot going on here, people to meet, places to be, things to do.”
    Eva blinked a few times.
    “Now I’ll show you your room, but I’m not going to give you a tour of the entire campus.” She said, harshly. “It’s up to you to figure it out – “she nattered on as she pushed past Eva and headed (trotted) down the narrow windy path, her five inch studded heels clomping against the cobble stone pavement.
    Eva hurried behind, trying to keep up, glancing at the buildings as she went along, pedantic not to miss any of