Chapter Seven

It was two am when we finally landed in Bucharest. We retrieved our luggage and walked towards the exit. Near the doors were a table with one man sitting behind it, there was a line of five people ahead of us. We had received instructions that we were to report to the man sitting by the ‘Winter Camp’ table.

“Name?” The man spoke with a heavy accent and barely glanced at us.

“Wynter and Abigail Grey.”

He flipped over two pages before ticking off our names on his list. “There’s a bus marked Winter Camp just outside, it will take you to Sinaia and the camp. Keep these identity cards on you at all times. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

It was a ten seater bus, very small in comparison to what I was used to seeing back home. Our identity cards were scanned and I led Abigail to the back and let her sit by the window. Twenty minutes later all ten seats were occupied and the bus started.

“Hey. Gerard de Yong.” He had turned in his seat and offered his hand in greeting.

“Wynter Grey.” I shook his hand a