THE LETTER
The church bells tolled three times, each note carrying across the quiet streets of Crestview like a warning.
I was sweeping the orphanage steps, my hands numb from the early frost, when the sound of hooves shattered the stillness. A carriage—black, polished, and carrying the royal crest—rolled to a slow, deliberate stop in front of our iron gate.
No one came for us. Not ever.
Sister Miriam emerged from the doorway, her robes brushing the cold stone, while I gripped the broom handle tight enough to splinter it. The coachman didn’t bother to greet her. He only reached into his coat and pulled out a single envelope, its wax seal shimmering faintly under the pale winter sun. Four symbols curved around a crown—the Crest of the Four Ranks.
Something inside my chest stirred, a faint ache I’d felt before. I had seen that seal once—on the day I was found, shivering and alone, with a thin silver chain tangled in my fist.
Sister Miriam’s eyes found mine, sharp and searching, as she read the name on the envelope.
“Liora,” she said quietly. “It’s for you.”
The broom slid from my grasp and clattered against the stone.
“Me?”
She didn’t answer—just pressed the letter into my hands. The wax was still warm, as though whoever sealed it had been close… maybe too close.
My fingers shook as I broke it open. The words blurred, but three lines stood out in a voice that didn’t feel like my own:
Congratulations. You have been accepted into Crestview High.
Placement: Rank Four – Common Group.
Report immediately.
The orphanage fell silent around me, though I swore I heard a faint, distant whisper—like someone speaking my name from a place I couldn’t see.
