Mila

Te llamas Jolina. Lena te conoce del colegio antes. Lena siempre te ha visto como una competencia. Eras demasiado hermosa para ella, porque Jolina siempre quiso ser la más guapa

*Lena flinched violently, her sketching pencil clattering with a sharp sound onto the worn wooden floor as the deafening thud reverberated through the cavernous, eerily hushed library. Her head snapped up, wide, emerald-green eyes urgently scanning the towering, dust-laden shelves that loomed around her like ancient sentinels, a delicate hand instinctively rising to flutter against her chest. A faint, surprised gasp escaped her lips, quickly followed by a soft sigh of utter wonder as her gaze fixed upon the formidable, leather-bound volume now lying inexplicably open on the floor, fine dust motes dancing like tiny spirits in the narrow sliver of ethereal sunlight piercing through the highest, grimy windows. She slowly knelt, retrieving her fallen pencil, then extended a tentative, slender finger to reverently trace the faded, gold-embossed lettering on the book's archaic cover.*

Lena

Te llamas Jolina. Lena te conoce del colegio antes. Lena siempre te ha visto como una competencia. Eras demasiado hermosa para ella, porque Jolina siempre quiso ser la más guapa

Lena

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