The room was dark when I stepped inside. I fumbled along the wall for a light switch and flicked it on.
The room wasn’t as bad as I expected. In that, it contained a bed with an actual mattress and not one of nails or a torture rack. Two beds, in fact. I must have a roommate, judging by the clothing hanging in the closet and books already stacked on one end of the desk.
A really boring roommate. Apart from the books and a small pink ribbon tied around the iron bedpost, there was no sign of personality in the room. No pictures on the walls, no books on the nightstand or band stickers on the binders. Nothing to tell me who I’d been stuck with.
“Let me guess,” I said dryly. “Scholarship students are on this floor?”
“Suites go to the students who can afford them. My parents already pay enough to charity cases like you – they’re not going to deprive my trust fund just so you can enjoy luxuries you didn’t earn.”
“What do you mean?” I said sarcastically. “Thisisthe ultimate luxury. I’m used to living in the gutter, remember. You telling me the dungeon was occupied?” I surveyed the bare walls and the single tiny window. It really did look like a prison cell.
“I wouldn’t make suggestions you don’t want to come true,” Trey growled. Courtney tossed her hair over her shoulder and wrinkled her nose.
“I’m bored, Trey. And the damp down here is flattening my hair. Let’s go.”
Trey followed Courtney to the door.What are you, her lap-dog?I wanted to say, but I bit my tongue.
“Wait, you’re supposed to show me where my classes—”
The door slammed shut behind me.Guess I’ll be finding my own way around. I sat on the edge of my bed, turning my hand over and running my finger over the small raised stain on my skin, the only reminder of the burns on my hands. As I touched it I could almost feel the heat on my skin, the pain of holding fire in my hands paling in comparison to hearing my mother’s screams. I dug my nails into the palm of my hand until the pain cut through my nerves and I could breathe normally again.
Don’t let them bother you. They’re just basic bitch bullies. You’ve dealt with bullies before, and these ones don’t even have knives.
Why did they need knives? Trey Bloomberg had money and power and he had the top position in the class list, the position I needed to get a good scholarship. He didn’t need a blade to cut me down.
“Ouch.” My voice rang in the empty, cold room. I stared down at my palm. My nail had cut through the skin, and I’d drawn blood. Droplets of red pooled in my palm.
A rush of relief hit me. The pain drew me back to the present, reminding me that I was here, that I’d already survived the worst thing that could possibly happen to me.Nothing Trey or his minions can do to me will ever hurt me like losing Mom and Dante…
I turned away, looking for something to distract me. My suitcase lay on my bed, the zippers pulled open.
I flipped open the lid, and my heart thudded in my chest. Someone had riffled through my things, unfolding the clothes, tearing open the side pockets, unscrewing the lid from my dread wax, scrunching up my underwear.Someone touched my underwear.
Hang on. I don’t see the journal—
Panic rose in my throat. I tore through the case, strewing my clothes around the room.Please let it be here… please…
But it wasn’t. I tipped the entire case upside down and turned the pockets inside out, but it wasn’t there. Someone had taken my journal.
“No.” I blinked back tears. That woman with the grey uniform must have gone through my case when she dropped it off here. She was probably looking for contraband.
But that journal wasn’t contraband. Apart from my phone, it was the most precious thing I owned. I knew the school didn’t allow outside stimuli like computers and phones and magazines, but surely, a book of scribbles and drawings wasn’t going to harm anyone.
I slumped down on the bed. A single tear spilled over, carving a salty trail down my cheek. I wiped it away angrily. Another tear followed, and another.
I’m supposed to be strong. But I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this school.
More tears fell. I didn’t wipe them away. I let them drop onto Dante’s tank. The tiny dots of liquid would remind me that crying was a sign of weakness, and I couldn’t show any weakness here, not in front of Trey or Courtney or Quinn or any of the other monarchs – and certainly not in front of my roommate, whoever that was. This might be the only private moment I had left.
The springs sagged under my weight, poking into my thighs. Behind my head, a faint scritch-scritch sounded inside the wall. Which was weird, because the walls looked to be solid stone, but I knew that in old places like this there was often a gap between the walls for drainage.Probably just rats. How lovely.
Scritch-scritch. Scritch-scritch—
Creak!
The door swung open. My chest tightened as I turned toward it.What now?
Chapter Three
