Chapter 1
Emily
The gates of Belmont Academy were taller than I had imagined. Iron twisted with ivy, polished until it gleamed, stretching high above my head like it could keep the world out, or keep me in. Luxury cars glided past me, drivers stepping out to open doors for students who walked with their heads held high, as though the world already belonged to them.
The school itself looked like a showroom for the future. Walls of shimmering glass, smooth, grey concrete and even a fountain at the centre of the quad that I’m very sure cost more than my mother earned in a year.
My uniform felt like a costume. I stepped off the public bus onto the polished sidewalk the way I did every morning and watched the line of Porsches and Audis slide up to the main entrance. The gates weren’t an entrance. They were a velvet rope around a world that had nothing to do with me.
I walked faster my eyes on the ground. Silence was the only defense I had. I tightened my grip on my bag, the worn leather rough against my palms, inside were my textbooks and a small, folded napkin. I drew in a slow breath, letting cool morning air fill my lungs. I had a purpose here. I was here to study, to survive that life that had never been kind me. NOTHING ELSE MATTERED!
My heart pounded. I had studied until 3 AM, and when I finally stood up this morning, the heat in my nose was followed by a familiar trickle. I’d fixed the nosebleed in the kitchen sink, washing away the blood before my mother woke up, then stuffed the napkin into the pocket just in case. I knew I looked tired, maybe even tense, but well no one would notice.
I entered the crowded main hall. I was focused on the floor, dodging the hundreds of expensive shoes. Then, I heard a loud voice and froze.
“Watch it, scholarship trash!”
I saw a student, a tall boy I didn’t recognize, stumble as he reached for his dripping water bottle. He hadn’t spilled it on me, but close enough. His face was twisted with annoyance, not apology. I didn’t say anything, just folded myself against the nearest wall. It took a full minute for my hands to stop shaking.
I managed to reach my locker and was turning the combination when a girl stopped abruptly in front of me. She wore glasses and carried a bag slightly too big for her
“Oh! Sorry,” she murmured quickly. Her eyes darted from my face to my worn backpack, then back up. She looked like she wanted to say something else, maybe just a simple, friendly “Hi.”
My chest tightened. I stepped around her without a word.
Behind me, she cleared her throat awkwardly. “Okay. See you,” she said softly, sounding a little disappointed, and hurried off down the corridor.
Her name was Helena. I knew because the professor had read it off the roll sheet on the first day. She seemed nice. That was exactly the problem. Nice people asked questions, and questions led to looking closer, and I couldn’t afford for anyone to look closer.
