Jasmin's POV
Clyde's eyes widened at my directness, but I was past caring about pleasantries.
Those bastards had left me with exactly one uniform.
The morning bell echoed through the corridor.
"There's no point clinging to it now," Clyde said softly, prying the destroyed fabric from my fingers. "Come on, let's grab breakfast and figure this out afterward."
I inhaled deeply and nodded, walking alongside him toward the dining hall.
"Damn," Clyde tried to inject some humor into the situation, "you seriously only owned two uniforms?"
I gave a curt nod. If only he understood that even this uniform wasn't originally mine. I'd tailored it to fit my frame, mending it countless times until the fabric barely held together.
As we approached the cafeteria entrance, Clyde spoke up again.
"I've got a solution."
My hand stopped moving. "What kind of solution?"
"Reach out to your pack or your family. Have them ship you a new uniform," he suggested matter-of-factly.
