I nodded mutely, gazing back outside, my eye taking in the now ominous-looking department store. My eyes grazed up the building, stopping at an unusual-looking structure on the roof. It looked like a person or maybe a gargoyle, but I could have sworn it wasn’t there when I entered the store two hours ago. Perhaps a new Christmasdecoration? Before I could get a better look, the car pulled away, and the feeling of uneasiness slowly receded.
Later that night, after a quiet dinner, Tiffany came to my room to help me put away my new wardrobe and to check on me, still unconvinced that I was truly okay after the debacle at the department store. Uncle Dan was apparently still at the office, working late on that high-profile murder case he had mentioned before.
“How are you feeling? Really?” She asked as she helped fold some of my new sweaters, placing them gently into my new dresser.
“Fine, I promise,” I smiled. “Thank you again for everything. It’s really unnecessary. One or two uniforms would have been enough.”
Tiffany turned to me, forcing me to look into her wide and fierce hazel eyes.
“Enough of that,” she demanded, her sharp and demanding tone surprising me. “You are family. You aremyfamily. And I provide for my family.”
The way she said it, with such intense conviction, made me pause. There was something deeper there, something more within Tiffany. She wasn’t just some rich heiress, living in her penthouse, surrounding herself with riches and basking in her privilege.
“Thank you,” I replied finally, taking a step forward to pull her into an embrace. She halted, hesitating for amoment before wrapping her arms around me, squeezing tightly.
“You’re welcome, sweet girl,” she mumbled into my hair.
She helped me put away the rest of my clothes in comfortable silence before saying goodnight. After showering, I fell into my large bed, anxiety rippling through me even though I was exhausted by the day’s events. My head still hurt, though the intensity of the humming had subsided greatly. Perhaps it was just an aftereffect of traveling, grief, and being in such a new and foreign place that caused my lingering headache and the brief blackout from earlier.
I tossed and turned before finally settling into a comfortable position. Soon, I drifted into a troubled sleep, where visions plagued me all through the night. Looking back, none of the dreams made sense. Just disjointed images of past memories with Nana when she was alive. There were flashes of darkness, a looming sense of dread, and the odd feeling that I was being watched.
Chapter Two
Nothing could have prepared me for my first day at Windsor Preparatory Academy. I thought that wearing a school uniform would help me blend in, that it wouldn’t be so painfully obvious how much I didn’t belong in this world. How wrong I was.
Mr. Lewis had dropped me off in front of the school, and I was sure he had gotten the wrong address. This wasn’t a high school; it was like someone had dropped Hogwarts in the middle of Manhattan. Tall, gothic buildings loomed over the street, the architecture reminding me of old cathedrals I had seen in travel vlogs and TikToks. I stared, mouth agape, at the front courtyard made of hard stone, surrounded by black wrought iron fences. The bright green landscape juxtaposed the dark, foreboding stone buildings in such a way that it made my eyes hurt.
I tugged at my school uniform awkwardly, pulling my new designer leather satchel closer to my body. All I had inside was a wallet to match, a composition notebook, a few pens, a gourmet lunch Iris insisted on packing for me, and an expensive-looking iPad and iPhone Tiffany had insistedI have. She had told me this morning that a new laptop would also be delivered after school so I could stay up to date on all my schoolwork. Back in Georgia, I just made do with the public library’s outdated technology and the hand-me-down flip phone Nana gave me to keep in touch. The satchel with all its expensive items felt heavy, like I had stolen goods on me instead of just new tech any one of these other kids wouldn’t even think twice about.
I followed the shuffle of bodies as students hurried to their first-period classes. I found my way to the front office, head down, hoping to blend in, to be invisible.
“Oh my God!” A shrill, high-pitched voice rang across the courtyard. Everyone, including me, turned to the voice. I froze, mortified to see the same group of teenage girls who had seen me black out at the store the day before. Kill me now.
“That’s the freak who passed out at Saks,” she continued, falling into a fit of giggles. “She had to buy new clothes because hers were hideous.” Her friends surrounded her, staring at me like I were a monster with three heads.
“What a weirdo,” another added, flipping her pristinely highlighted hair over her shoulder before turning to a taller and darker boy behind her. While everyone was wearing the same dark navy and hunter green uniform, on this boy, it actually made him stand out. His dark hair was swept back into a bun, a few stray hairs hanging about and framing his face. He was tan and tall,towering over the other students by at least two feet. His tie hung loosely at his neck, his hands digging into his pockets. His eyes stole my attention. His somber green eyes narrowed on me, his eyes clouding with confusion and . . . fear?
I turned away, cheeks flushed as I rushed into the main office, desperate to escape the stares and laughter of my new peers. And especially that boy. The one with the dark green eyes.
Of course, two minutes into my new school and I was already the freak, the weirdo.
I walked into the main office where a well-dressed secretary sat, taking notes on her computer while answering the phone. I waited until she was free before giving her my name.
“Amaris Pollard?” A crisp, melodic voice cut through my nervous thoughts. I turned around to see a tall woman approaching from the headmistress’ office, her posture perfect, dark red hair pulled into a tight chignon. Her eyes were sharp, hawk-like, with an intense precision that commanded respect and authority.
“I go by Mari, actually,” I replied, tucking a stray blonde curl behind my ear.
She hesitated, seemingly surprised by my response.
“I’m Dr. Seraphine Duvall, Headmistress of Windsor Prep,” she said, extending a hand. “Welcome.”
I shook her hand, surprised by the firm grip. “Thank you. It’s an honor to be here.”
Dr. Duvall gave a small, appraising smile. “I’ve heard much about you, Mari. Settling into a new school can be challenging, but I trust you’ll find your place here.” She glanced at my new satchel, then back at me. “Discipline, dedication, and curiosity are what make our students stand out. I expect nothing less from you.”
I nodded, unsure whether to be intimidated or inspired. “I’ll do my best.”
She tilted her head slightly; her gaze lingering on me in a way that made me feel both seen and measured. “Good. Your first day can be overwhelming, but remember this—knowledge is power, and observation is your greatest ally. Be aware of your surroundings, Miss Pollard. Not everyone here may be as they appear.”
