“Where are you? We said 2am @ sector 9 plaza. The one on Breton. Call me!” Gloria glared at her phone and opened their chat app as well. It probably wouldn’t work either. The Wi-Fi here was so spotty. She texted, Where ru? Im @ plaza 9 x Breton. Call me.
She mentally shook her head and tried to relax. It wasn’t that bad. Frank was only 30 min late. Tons of people still swarmed the streets. She knew how to get back to their camper. Gloria traced the seam on her orange plastic rape whistle that was tangled in the mass of plastic bead necklaces covering her chest. She was safe enough.
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