Chapter One: The Arrival To Hartwell Academy
The day opened with a sleek black tinted car driving slowly before stopping right in front of Hartwell Academy — a grand iron gate stood tall with the school’s name engraved in bold letters across the arch.
Inside the car, a young woman sat quietly at the back, her hands folded tightly around her bag resting on her lap. Her expression was blank — void of color, void of life.
“We’ve arrived, miss,” said the man in the driver’s seat, glancing at her through the rearview mirror, his hands still on the wheel.
“What about my luggage?” the young lady asked, her voice distant — heavy with grief.
“Get down and drag them from the trunk. It’s already open,” the driver replied curtly.
The young woman let out a soft, bitter laugh. “Has it really gotten to this point, Mr. Maxwell?”
“Your grandpa’s orders,” he answered simply.
Anger flashed in her eyes as she began to gather her things. She reached for the door, pushed the handle, and stepped out of the car. But before she could move away, Mr. Maxwell stopped her and handed her a large brown envelope.
“Here, Miss — files containing the details of your new identity.”
She glared at him but snatched the envelope anyway. Dragging her two boxes of luggage out, she stood there, the wind brushing against her long black hair.
“No other message from my grandpa?” she asked finally, hesitation mixing with frustration.
Mr. Maxwell looked at her, his expression softened — almost pitying. Then it hardened again.
“Stay good. Lay low for the time being.”
Her chest tightened. “Just that? How am I supposed to communicate with him? He gave me no way to contact him or anyone in the family—” Her voice trembled, frustration threatening to turn into tears.
Maxwell shook his head. “Your safety is on thin ice. You’re not to contact anyone — including your grandfather. Focus on building your new life here on the East Coast.”
“I understand,” she whispered, though her heart didn’t.
She turned to leave, dragging her suitcases along, when Maxwell’s voice stopped her once more.
“Miss Adanna Cole,” he called out.
She froze and turned back slowly. His face carried a strange expression she couldn’t decipher.
“You are… pitiful.”
And with that, he started the car and drove off, leaving her standing there in confusion — and pain — as his words echoed in her mind.
Clutching the brown envelope to her chest, Adanna stiffened her back, forcing away the tears that threatened to fall. She turned to face the towering gates of Hartwell Academy.
The name gleamed proudly, carved like royalty into the ironwork.
It stood like a command — a warning of what lay ahead.
As she took a deep breath, a voice broke through her thoughts.
Soft. Feminine. British.
“Miss Ivy Wood?”
Adanna turned and found a tall woman with dirty blonde hair tied into a neat bun. She wore a fitted skirt suit with the academy’s crest pinned neatly on her pocket.
For a moment, Adanna blinked — confused. Then she remembered.
Ivy Wood — her new name. Her new identity.
“Yes,” she said finally, forcing composure. “That’s me.”
The woman smiled and extended her hand. “Call me Miss Bella, your tour guide.”
Adanna took her hand with a faint smile.
“Welcome to Hartwell Academy,” Miss Bella said warmly.
Adanna — now Ivy Wood — nodded silently and followed her through the majestic gates.
A new reality awaited her.
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Inside the Dean’s office, a middle-aged man with greying hair and sharp eyes explained the academy’s structure.
“Your scholarship isn’t charity, Miss Wood,” he said with a hint of approval. “It’s purely on merit. Your records are… impressive.”
He signed a few papers, stamped others, and finally handed her a document to sign. Then he gestured to Miss Bella. “She’ll show you to your classroom and dormitory.”
Miss Bella nodded politely. “Come along, Miss Wood.”
As they walked down the grand hallway, filled with portraits and chandeliers that screamed wealth, they encountered a girl with chestnut-brown hair and perfect posture.
“Oh, that’s Miss Lena Headey,” Miss Bella said with a smile. “One of our student council members.”
Lena turned toward them, her voice smooth but curious. “A new student? At the end of the semester?”
Miss Bella adjusted her glasses, smiling faintly but offering no explanation. Instead, she said, “Lena, help Miss Wood with her luggage and show her to her dorm room once we’re done.”
Lena nodded politely, giving Ivy a brief, assessing look before walking off.
When they reached Ivy’s classroom, the sound of loud chatter and laughter burst through the door. Students were making fun of their teacher.
Ivy’s stomach twisted. What kind of people am I about to meet?
“Don’t mind them,” Miss Bella said softly, adjusting her glasses again. “Students here can be… spirited.”
Ivy gave a faint eye roll but followed her in.
“Sorry to interrupt your class, Mr. Claire,” Miss Bella began.
The teacher, a weary-looking man, smiled faintly. “You’re just in time, Miss Bella. I’m done for the day. The monsters are all yours.”
The class erupted in laughter and clapping.
Miss Bella sighed, forcing a polite smile as she turned to the students. “Silence, everyone! Behave like the reputable scholars of Hartwell Academy.”
The noise died down — somewhat.
Then a voice from the back called out mockingly, “What do you want this time, Miss Four-Eyes Bella?”
The class burst into laughter again.
Miss Bella gritted her teeth but stayed composed. “We have a new student joining us today. Please welcome Miss Ivy Wood.”
The room went quiet. Ivy took a hesitant step forward, clutching the straps of her backpack tightly. Her hazel eyes swept the class, scanning the unfamiliar faces.
“I’m Ivy Wood,” she said clearly. “I hope to build a good relationship with everyone.”
Miss Bella exhaled quietly in relief. “Perfect. Miss Wood, enjoy your new class.”
She smiled — perhaps too quickly — and practically rushed out of the room.
As soon as she was gone, Ivy asked, “Who’s the class president?”
A petite girl in the front raised her hand timidly. “That would be me. Why?”
“Please, where’s my seat?”
The girl pointed toward an empty desk in the middle. Ivy nodded gratefully and started walking toward it.
“Welcome to hell, Ivy Wood,” a boy in the back muttered loudly. “Hope you’re ready to entertain the devil himself.”
The class erupted in laughter.
“And who knows,” added a blonde girl with elaborate braids, “maybe the devil will actually like her.”
More laughter.
The class president only sighed and returned to her notes.
What a hell of a school, Ivy thought grimly as she reached her seat.
Moments later, she quietly stood up, gathered her things, and walked out of the chaotic classroom, her heart heavy but face unreadable.
Outside, she found Lena waiting for her with a faint smirk.
“Rough start?” Lena teased.
“You could say that,” Ivy muttered.
Lena handed her a small keycard. “Here’s your room key. You’re lucky — you get your own space.”
A small smile broke through Ivy’s cold expression.
Finally — a little peace.
She held the card tightly, her gaze drifting toward the window where the Hartwell crest shimmered under the morning sun.
New name. New life. New beginning.
But deep down, Adanna Cole knew one thing:
No matter how far she ran, the past always finds its way back.
