I’m drowning. The water is dragging me down. There’s no air, no breath, and no matter how hard I fight and kick, the darkness pushes in, consumes me. The moon shines high above the water, but I can’t reach it. I open my mouth to scream and water rushes in—

“Agh!” I jolted upright, panic and fear coursing through me as I looked wildly around. For a moment I expected to see a lake, to feel myself sinking deeper, but no. I was sitting on a train, the window now dark as scenery flashed by.

I lifted my hand to my throat, rubbing at the pain there. The dream always felt so real, as if I were there, in the body of another—

“I thought you said you weren’t the kind of girl to scream?”

My gaze snapped suddenly to Cillian, his slow lazy drawl not matching the crisp, cold lines of his face. I’d thought he was asleep, but now his cool grey eyes watch mine, somehow reminding me of the steady, unflinching, uncaring gaze of a cat. His blonde hair had become disheveled, and he sat up, running his hand through his hair, mussing it even further. Annoyingly, it looked better messy. Why did men look better when first waking? I turned to look out the window, determined not to find a single thing attractive or redeeming about this man.

Outside the world was dark, and I could see only the impression of large trees looming around us. I knew it was a long ride to Dracon Hall, and that the tracks stopped outside the thick forest. I’d need to rent a car, and get a hotel room for the night… all with my dwindling supply of money. It wasn’t anywhere near enough money to pay to attend the summer program without a scholarship. It wasn’t enough to do anything but get us to Dracon Hall.

I was about to ask Cillian if he knew how long it was till we reached the station when I realized that the reason the train had jolted me awake was that we were slowing down.

We were there.

We’d made it.

Energy coursed through me, and I sat up straighter, trying to peer out into the impenetrable darkness. A speaker came on above us, a man’s voice saying, “This is the end of the line. Please prepare to disembark.”

I shook Lainey awake, and tried to hide my worry while tempering my excitement. This was it. We were nearly there—and then, come tomorrow, I’d finally have my chance.

For the first time, I faced the enormity of the task before me. Could I really convince a bunch of old, rich men to let me and my sister a place at an ancient, elite boarding school?

Cillian rose and stretched, revealing the bare skin of a toned stomach as he reached up for a small leather bag then turned to me. “Do you need help reaching your things?” His words were kind, but his gaze was mocking.

“I don’t want or need any help from you,” I snarled.

He laughed softly, then pushed open the compartment door and was gone. Shit. Watching him go, I realized he probably knew where to go. And I still needed to find us a car and hotel room—preferably as cheaply as possible. I’d just have to figure it out on my own. As I always did.

“Come on, Lainey, we gotta go.”

I had to stand on the seat, but I managed to get our bags down. My gaze fell upon Cillian’s thick head of blonde hair father down the train car, visible above all the others now exiting the train. I wondered if the elderly man who served us food would be helping him to Dracon Hall. Probably. Stepping out onto the platform, the world stretching out into darkness around us, a strange sense of foreboding pressed in on me. I’d waited for this moment for so long, now that we were here I was terrified I would fail.

There was no back-up plan. No plan B.

Though I wouldn’t ask Cillian for help, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to follow him and see where he was going. With his blonde hair and tall build, not to mention the absurd suit, he wasn’t exactly hard to trail.

The idea worked until the press of people all filtered into the train station, the door creating a funnel. I lost sight of him when the crowd pressed in tighter, to short to see over all the people jostling and hurrying to get where they were going. When we stepped free from the final doors and out the station, I searched the people beyond… but no head of pale blonde hair showed.

Damn it. Where had he gone?

“Come on,” I said, pulling Lainey down the steps. I’d expected to find us in some kind of urban city center. Instead the front of the train station was a parking lot, and I watched as car after car picked up person after person, and they sped awake into the night. I approached several of the cars, but again and again, they turned me down. Apparently everyone here had already booked a ride. One by one the cars left, a growing sense of panic filling me until the last one pulled away from the curb, not even acknowledging me when I tried to wave it down.

Then we were alone.

So alone the night seemed to press in around us.

So alone that Lainey’s hand holding mine felt like an anchor pulling me down into a bottomless ocean.

I didn’t know where Cillian had gone.

I had no idea how to get to Dracon Hall from here.

There were no taxis or ride shares or anything…

Tears of frustration, and exhaustion, pricked my eyes as I held Lainey’s hand and stared out into the night. So close. I’d gotten so damn close. We were just a drive away from Dracon Hall—that place that had somehow become the long beacon of hope and safety in my life. Could we walk? I didn’t know the way, or how long it might take.

I stared at her, my heart sinking and ripping as I wondered if I’d dragged her out here for nothing. Maybe Cillian was right about me. Maybe I didn’t deserve to go to Dracon Hall if I couldn’t even handle getting there.

The train station lights had just gone out behind us, cutting off my plan of going back inside and begging for help, when headlights pierced the night and a final car slid into the parking lot. My heart lurched with hope. It was sleek black and expensive looking. The exact thing I knew we couldn’t afford. But I had to try—and I wasn’t above begging.

I’d just stepped into the road and raised my hand when the car stopped and a young man with a mocking smile stepped out the back.

And then I nearly considered walking.

Or just jumping onto the train tracks again.

Cillian’s taunting smile filled his face as he left the door open and leaned against the car, his hands buried in the pockets. He looked ridiculous. What sort of teenager wore a suit? Who did he think he was? I glared at him as he smiled even wider, reclining against the car as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

Finally he reached into his pocket, drawing out the lanyard—my lanyard! Damn him! For someone who had made a lot of my money from stealing things, I was annoyed he’d been able to steal it from me yet again. When had he taken it back? “You know, it’s quite a long walk to Dracon Hall,” he said in a slow, careless drawl. “I wonder if you’ll make it in time for the interview tomorrow.”

I bristled, not moving, warring inside. I needed to get Lainey and I to Dracon Hall. And here was a car that was already heading there.

If only it didn’t contain my new personal nemesis.

When I didn’t speak he shrugged and finally stood up. “Ahh well, enjoy your walk. Watch out for anything with teeth.”

“Wait!”

I wanted to wipe the smirk off his face, but instead I swallowed all of that back and said, “What do you want? In exchange for giving us a ride to Dracon Hall?”

His smile dropped away, that glittering coldness returned. “I want you to listen to what I have to say about Dracon Hall and to take it seriously.” I went to open my mouth, but he lifted a hand, cutting off my retort when he said, “Before you accuse me of trying to scare you away, consider this. I could have driven away without you and left you here. I could have let that train flatten you. And I’ve already called ahead and had them arrange lodgings in town tonight so we can get to Dracon Hall fresh and early for our tour and interviews tomorrow morning. I do have an agenda, but I promise I will let you have your fair shot at Dracon Hall.”

I stared at him, trying and failing to understand. There was no smirk on his face now, just a steady sort of determination. Intuition told me he was telling the truth… which made no sense. Finally I shook my head, hard-learned suspicion from the past year kicking in. “What’s your game? What do you want from me?”

The smirk returned and he opened the door, gesturing me inside. “Get in Foxglove. Maybe I’ll tell you.”

I swallowed hard, and then looked at Lainey, who looked all but wilted beside me. I might have made the walk, but she wouldn’t. I turned back to Cillian and nodded. “Fine.”

He stepped back, and I let Lainey in first and then ducked in after her.

I prayed I hadn’t just made a giant mistake.

“Look,” I finally said, dragging the words from some deep part of me that still remembered the girl I once was. “I think we’ve got off on the wrong foot.” I took a deep breath. “We both deserve a space at Dracon Hall. I won’t get in your way if you don’t get in mine.” It felt like eating ash, to say these things, to cower. But I’d do it. I’d done far, far worse.

He didn’t smile. He just met my gaze for a long, long moment before he too turned to look at Lainey. I didn’t like that she was here before him so defenseless… or that the sad face she’d worn these past few weeks finally was smooth and peaceful. I hated that he was the one who’d provided the food. I didn’t like feeling indebted to him.

I didn’t want to be saved. Least of all by someone like him.

“See, the thing is, I don’t think you deserve a place at Dracon Hall.” He said the words so cold and calm. Like they didn’t land like a slap to the face. But he wasn’t done. “There are things I know about Dracon Hall that would make you and your sister run away screaming.” There was something dark in his voice, something that told me he was telling the truth.

Maybe I should have been scared. But, as you’re beginning to see, reader, it takes a lot to scare me. “I’m not really the run and scream kind of girl,” I said coldly. “And it’s not like we have any other choices. Not all of us have daddy’s money to get us a spot wherever we want.”

His eyes flashed, and then, ahead, just as quickly, settled back into that cold arrogance. He dangled the lanyard just before his eyes, staring at it. “And you think your perfect little smart girl will be enough to get both of you a place.”

“It isn’t an act,” I snarled, before I forced the anger down, trying to reflect that same steely cold he held effortlessly. “I took the entrance exam all on my own. And I’m going to get into the summer program all on my own too. I don’t need your advice—or your help. And you aren’t going to scare me away with some cryptic warnings.”

He lowered the lanyard and when his eyes fixated on mine, it was with such coldness I was suddenly grateful Lainey sat beside me. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. You do need my help. The perfect score might have gotten you an interview, but it isn’t going to get you a spot at Dracon Hall. And it certainly won’t get a spot for both of you.” His eyes shifted to my sister asleep on the seat beside me. “That is what you’re hoping for, isn’t it? Not just one but two full scholarships?”

I didn’t back down. Not ever. Not when my parents died. Not when I’d been stripped of my home and my friends and my school and everything I owned. Not when I became someone violent, and wicked who did whatever they had to to survive.

“Yes,” I said with cold precision. “That is what I’m planning. Dracon Hall has by-laws that allow siblings in if their older sibling earned a place.”

“And it works for scholarship students too?”

I glared at him, hating him and that knowing smirk that said he knew the by-laws as well as I did. Damn him. I wished, not for the first time, I had a phone and could do a deep dive into who exactly he was, and what weaknesses he held. Everyone had weaknesses, everyone had vulnerabilities, and usually I was good at finding them. But it wasn’t often I met someone I worried might be as dangerous as me, or hiding just as many secrets. The two of us surveyed each other like two predators circling around a carcass, both wondering how big a threat the other was exactly.

He’d find out eventually I was the bigger threat.

“You know the summer program is going to be smaller this year than it ever has?” His voice was cold, yet conversational, dangling this morsel of information like he was baiting a trap. A trap he knew I’d step right into.

“I hadn’t heard that.”

“Aren’t you going to ask why?”

“I assume you’ll tell me regardless.”

His eyes glittered, the anger showing for just a moment, like a flash of something emerging from the depths than sinking away again. “Because last summer someone disappeared.”

The dream. The girl in this vision. Were they related? I forced it all away—because it was just a dream. It didn’t mean anything. Dracon Hall would be a refuge. Not a prison. “It wasn’t on the news or in the paper,” I countered.

“That’s because they covered it up.”

“Or because you made it up.” He was trying to scare me, throw me off my game.

He glared at me for a long moment before he shrugged, turning back to the window. “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I rolled my eyes and settled in deeper beside Lainey. The rain continued streaking outside the window, lakes and rivers and forests all passing by, but I found myself unsettled rather than comforted by the beautiful scenery.

Was he right? Had someone really disappeared? Were there monsters at Dracon Hall?

I closed my eyes and settled my head against Lainey’s. The last year I’d been on my own, fighting for us both, and I’d found out that there were monsters everywhere. But that didn’t mean Cillian was telling the truth. He was clearly nothing more than an entitled asshole. He didn’t know what a true monster was…

True monsters weren’t in the movies or in storybooks.

A true monster hid behind the faces of the people you loved…

… Or stared back at you in the mirror.

“We just can’t stop running into each other,” Cillian said, watching without moving as I struggled to place both my backpack and Lainey’s on the rack above the seats. I wasn’t quite tall enough, but I’d be damned if I asked for his help. “Why is it, do you think that you’re so obsessed with me? The good looks or the money?”

I finally sat down, matching his cold smile with one of my own. “Probably the money. And since you have so much of it, why don’t you go use it to sit literally anywhere else?”

“And lose the chance to learn more about my competition? Never.” He settled deeper into his seat, his long legs sprawled out, so that I was forced to tuck mine in. “Besides, I’ve already heard so much about you. The very first perfect score on the admission test. How exactly did you manage that?”

The accusation was so thick in his voice, I turned from gazing out the windows to stare him down. “They actually have had another perfect score. Mine. When I took it again to prove I didn’t cheat.”

He grinned, and I scowled, angry that I’d let him bait me into answering him. How did he know all this? I wondered if he knew the sibling rule—younger siblings of students who’d already attended the school were almost always accepted… scholarship students being the exception. But I couldn’t think about that. I’d find a way to get them to accept both me and Lainey. I stared out the train window, refusing to look at him as a sudden surge of panic hit me.

He spoke with such confidence. What if the reason Cillian was coming here early wasn’t because he was having an interview and hoping to become a student?

What if his place there was already assured?

As soon as I thought about it, I knew I was right. Yes, Dracon Hall accepted a small number of scholarship students every year, and there was an entrance exam to get into the school, but there was a deeper set of rules than the ones listed on the website. Rules that could be bent and shaped to keep a sort of people in—and keep out another sort. Dracon Hall had stood for centuries, and the forest it lived in had laid untouched for even longer. The people who attended this school came from wealth and privilege, and poured huge amounts of money into the school to keep it as exclusive and elite as it had been when they attended.

If Cillian was one of those people, if his parents were, then until I had my place assured there, he was a very dangerous enemy.

Deadly, even.

But why was he here then? Normal students didn’t attend the summer program…

Lainey’s eyes stared out at train car windows at that countryside slipping by outside. I wished I could enjoy the view, but instead I stared out the window while tracking every tiny moment from the man opposite me. It was just past noon, but dark clouds had gathered, and some rain began pouring down across the windows. Once I’d loved the rain, but now it only made me think how thirsty I was, and how I hadn’t had a proper meal in two days.

Also how I might have ruined our chances at Dracon Hall forever. At the very first opportunity to secure our future, I’d insulted Cillian Dreadmoor. To be fair, he kind of seemed like an asshole, but if we were in competition, or worse, he already had a place at Dracon Hall and could sway my chances, I needed to find a way to tolerate him.

Maybe even befriend him. Not an easy thing to do, for someone like me. As you’re probably beginning to see, dear reader, I have an incredibly hard time letting things go and making friends. People betrayed you, used you, hurt you. Better to keep everyone at arms length. Burying a hatchet wasn’t really my style, unless it was burying it in someone’s back.

Before I could decide exactly how I was going to make peace with Cillian, or at least find out if he was a threat to us, a knock sounded on the door, and an elderly man poked his head inside.

“Afternoon,” he said, with a thick English accent. “I have lunch, would you like it served now?”

Cillian gave a careless sort of wave, that I took to mean yes, because the man stepped inside, folding out a small table that stretched between the two benches. Then he disappeared, and began to return with platters of food. So much food that my stomach started to rumble.

Lainey sat still beside me, gazing at the food. I felt another surge of guilt—when was the last time she’d eaten? I was supposed to be taking care of her. It didn’t matter that she was only two years younger than me. I was the one who was supposed to care for her. I shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable as the scents of the food wafted over me.

Cillian wasn’t looking at us. But I could see Lainey watching the food with those wide, wanting eyes, so I finally forced a smile and said, “Is this all for you?”

He turned to me and gave me that lazy, mocking smile that made me want to smack him. “Help yourself. But only if you take off those dreadful lanyards. Are you packages or people?”

I pulled my lanyard off and slammed it onto the table a bit harder than necessary, Cillian smiling up at me as I did.

Calm, Mallory. Calm and deep rooted. For Lainey.

“Go ahead,” he said, giving the same lazy gesture he’d given to the man to the food before him.

Lainey reached out at once, but I waited till she’d eaten two tea sandwiches before I reached out as well. I expected Cillian to mock us. Instead he stared out the window, watching the countryside flash by, looking deep in thought. Normally I wouldn’t have eaten so much while sitting directly across from someone as generally unpleasant as him, but this last year food wasn’t exactly a plentiful resource. Now I felt like a plant starved for water suddenly drowning in a summer rain. I dug in, and as soon as the first sandwich touched my lips, I couldn’t stop.

“I’ve never seen a girl eat like that,” Cillian said some time later. I started, not realizing he’d been watching me. But who cared? I wasn’t trying to impress him, just find out if he could hurt us.

I made a rude gesture, mouth too full to respond. He grinned at my response, leaning forward and snagging a half-eaten sandwich off my plate. I glared at him, as he smiled and ate the sandwich. I buried the urge to tell him I hope he choked on it, and just kept eating in silence.

See, reader? Aren’t I doing a good job being nice? I deserve a gold-freaking-star.

Together the three of us cleared the food, and when there was only crumbs left, the older man returned. He cleared the remains, put the table back up, and then turned to Cillian. “Will that be all, Master Dreadmoor?”

I wanted to choke—master? What was this, the 18th century? Cillian who simply raised his hand in a lazy wave like he had for us earlier and the man bowed.

“Thank you,” I said to the old man as he made to leave. “The food was delicious.”

He bowed his head and responded in a gravely voice. “Master Dreadmoor insisted there be enough for you all to share.”

My cheeks flushed at this, and I refused to look at Cillian—even though I knew a mocking smile filled his face as the man left. The door had barely slid shut before Cillian said, “You are most welcome, Ms. Foxglove, for the delicious food.”

“Piss off, Cillian. Or should I call you Master Dreadmoor?”

His smile turned wicked. “Please do.”

I refused to blush at the silky voice, the mocking smile in his eyes. Damn him. This wasn’t like me, letting someone else get under my skin. But I’d been dealing in shadows and secrets for so long—this sort of battle was one I’d forgotten. If I wasn’t so exhausted from months of barely sleeping, I’d take him apart. But, that wasn’t the plan. First I needed to find out more about him.

Which meant I needed to find a way to talk to him, and not, as I would have preferred, punch him.

You can do this, I reminded myself. He was just a rich, entitled asshole who thought he knew better than everyone. I used to be great at playing people like that… Or at least, I knew how to make myself seem smaller, less threatening, less intelligent, to get where I needed to go.

But that was the old me. The girl who was supremely confident that all my knowledge, my my books, my intelligence—all of it made me invincible.

But none of those things had stopped mom and dad from dying.

I’d become a different person since then—a person of sharp edges and quiet hunger, with blood on her hands. But maybe I needed to find a way to tap back into that kind, soft girl who loved to read. That was the girl who’d secure a place at Dracon Hall.

So I turned to Cillian and said, in the least abrasive way I could, “How did you know about my entrance exam? Who told you?”

He dangled his lanyard in his hands, and looked at the crest of Dracon Hall—a D encased in vines—before I realized that it wasn’t his lanyard. It was mine. When had he gotten that? I leaned forward to snatch it back, but he pulled back and I didn’t dare move forward and try and take it. I’d already been pressed up against his body once today.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you to say please?” he said in that mocking tone.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you you’re an asshole?” Dammit. This nice thing was not going well.

But he just smiled, turning back to the lanyard when he said, “My dad is on the Board of Governors. Or he was, until a few years ago… They’re hoping to get him back on the board again.” He sighed. “And for some incredibly stupid reason, they think offering me a spot will mend the wounds of the past.”

He rolled his eyes at his final words, but I didn’t understand his tone or words. Wounds of the past? What kind of wounds did Cillian have? Or did he mean something about Dracon Hall?

But then those cold, grey eyes turned, freezing me. “And you? What do your parents think about you being here?”

“Our parents are dead.”

“Lucky you.”

I bristled, a surge of rage crashing through me, rising all the more when he smirked at the rage so clearly displayed on my face. “You’ll have to learn to act better than that, sweet Mallory. There are far worse monsters than me at Dracon Hall.”

I wanted to scream at him, eviscerate him, but something about his words reminded me of the girl, the one who called to me in the dreams…

Why had he used the word monsters?

Read Chapter 7 now

I shoved back from Cillian’s chest, glaring at him. Now that I got a full look at him, without the shock of having nearly been hit by a train, I realized what I hadn’t before. His good looks were ruined by the sneer on his face. He was tall, but walked with an almost disdainful laziness, as if the whole world were beneath him. A smirk filled his face as he made a slow appraisal of my disheveled hair and clothes, and the lanyard hanging on my chest, that now seemed like some kind of giant blazing sticker labeled me a child.

“It suddenly all makes sense,” he said with a sneer. “You found out I’m your competition for the summer program at Dracon Hall, and decided to give up. Would you like me to push you into the tracks now, or do you want to see if the sad, poor orphan act can earn you a place at Dracon Hall?”

Remember, reader, how I said I would ignore Cillian Dreadmoor? Well, screw that. I was going to earn Lainey and I a place at Dracon Hall—and then I would destroy Cillian.

“Get out of my way,” I snapped. “Unlike you, I earned my interview. Nobody bought it for me.”

“Oh, that much is very clear.”

His gaze trailed down my body and I bristled at the cold, uncaring drawl, the way his eyes dismantled me piece by piece, like he could see every dirty deed I’d done to get here. But the people were pressing closer, boarding the train, so I tried to step around him.

He stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “You could leave now, you know? If you need some cash, I’ll lend it to you.”

And then, finally, I understood. I’d forgotten that I was once the book nerd, the girl who knew everything, who’d secretly taken the admissions test at Dracon Hall and achieved the very first prefect score. That girl, who I once was, was now as cold and dead and buried as my parents. Maybe that’s why the laugh that emerged from me was as cold as the grave. “Is that what this is about? You’re threatened by me? You think I’m going to take your spot? Well I plan on being top of the class. Get used to being under me.”

A slow cold smile filled his face. “Maybe I will.”

Heat flushed my cheeks at the insinuation in his voice. I fisted my hand, wanting to slap him, but then the train whistle sounded.

Lainey. Dracon Hall. That’s what was important.

I stepped around him and snarled, “Stay away from me and my sister.” I wondered briefly if there was any way I could push him onto the tracks and make it look like an accident. Probably not. He was freakishly tall with wide shoulders. Besides, I had the feeling that he was the type of person who’d come crawling out of any hole you shoved him into.

I’d met people like that.

I’d also made a few of them disappear.

I could feel him watching us as we boarded the train. As far as comebacks went, it was weak. But something about Cillian threw me off. Maybe it was the fact that after an entire year of defending me and my sister, of fighting the entire world, of being alone, I’d been saved by the very last person I wanted to owe anything to. Cillian was about to be my competition. And I needed every edge I could get—not just for me, but to get Lainey into Dracon Hall too. I might have gotten a perfect score, and they usually accepted siblings, but two full scholarships was going to take a lot of convincing.

Lainey’s eyes were glazed and vacant as I pulled her through the crowds on the platform. As she stared up at me with those wide eyes, and a part of me cracked inside. Lainey—beautiful, silly, sweet, sensitive, wild, little Lainey, my heart, my sister, was gone. I didn’t know this shadow sitting here.

Once, not so long ago, Lainey would have snapped back at Cillian—or at least she would have given me shit for letting Cillian get the better of me. If she were awake, the way she once was, she wouldn’t have let me go chasing after shadows and ghosts and whatever other monsters stalked me. She was gone, and all I had was my rage and fear moving us forward.

I hoped it would be enough.

A whistle sounded, and together Lainey and I stepped onto the train, the last of the boarders. A man with a uniform came over, and, seeing the lanyards we wore at our neck, pointed to the back of the train. “Dracon Hall, is it? We’ve got a carriage in the back saved for minors.”

“Thanks,” I said, taking Lainey’s hand and heading for the back, praying all the while that Cillian was the kind of rich snob who would pay for his own seat.

The train whistled again, the floor started shaking as it began to roll out of the station. I wanted to feel happy, excited, but when I glanced at my little sister’s vacant eyes it took all I was not to let the world around me crush me.

How could I think I could do this?

What if the dreams were only the beginning?

What if there was a reason Mom and Dad hadn’t wanted us to attend Dracon Hall? But, I shoved it all away, and thought back to that willow tree that we’d hid beneath all night.

I would become like a tree.

Deeply rooted. Unshakable.

The winds of life howled around me, but I held strong. My branches took the brunt of the storm, so that the fragile sapling beside me could have room to grow. And she would grow. I had to believe that. If I could just get her to Dracon Hall, I would find a way to feed her silence and peace and music and belonging, and she would come back to me.

“Come on,” I said, my voice once again strong. I would weather whatever Cillian Dreadmoor threw out at me, and I wouldn’t let him get to me.

I kept pulling Lainey to the back of the train, scenery now slipping by outside the windows, making me feel like I was running backwards while the world moved faster and faster away from me. Shoulders and arms bumped into me as others settled into their seats, but I didn’t let any of it shake me, and I didn’t loosen my grip on Lainey’s hand.

The final train compartment was labeled Dracon Hall, and, I sighed seeing it, already seeing the tall figure sprawling across the seats aside. Great. So much for avoiding him.

Just before I reached out, Lainey pulled back, the first resistance in the month since our parents’ death. I turned, staring at the flicker of fear in her eyes. I’d forgotten—Lainey didn’t like enclosed places, and the compartment was tight, just two benches facing each other, one already holding Cillian’s sprawling form.

Maybe it wasn’t a spark, not yet, but it was something.

“It’s going to be alright,” I whispered to her, stepping forward and hugging her tightly. All around us people talked and laughed, no one noticed the two sisters embracing, holding on to each other like they were the only things they had left in this world.

“We’re going to find a new home.” I whispered into her ear, stroking her long, dark hair. “A new place to belong. I promise.” Then I pulled back and said, “Do you trust me?” She stared up at me and then slowly nodded her head. My heart soared, and I reached out, touching her chin, as I saw almost, almost a smile there. “Well then, come on. The Foxglove sisters can brave anything. So long as we’re together.”

I couldn’t explain it—that song, that calling I’d felt when I’d seen the girl. Someone I felt it in the way my sister’s hand clutched mine, the way the train moved us relentlessly towards our future.

As if Dracon Hall wasn’t just a place…

It was our destiny.

Continue on to Chapter Six

Share The Storywood

A cold wind whispered across the train yard, and when I looked up, I saw her.

A girl in a white dress soaking wet...

Blood stained the front of the dress.

No. No, she’s not real. I blinked, closing my eyes and opening them again...

But still she stood there, in a white dress, looking like she’d just emerged from a lake...

Or drowned in one.

Mallory...the voice came on the breeze, and I shivered. Not real. She wasn’t real. Except when I looked up, she was still there. Mallory, find me. Help me.

I didn’t want this. None of it. Not the disturbing dreams that had plagued me since my parents died, not the horrible visions, but I was no coward. I fought, I didn’t run.

So I steeled my spine, threw back my shoulders and decided to face whatever horror this was. Now, I know what you’re thinking, reader, this is how every female character dies, but I already told you, I’m not the hero. And If she wouldn’t leave me alone, then I would prove to her she wasn’t the one she wanted.

I was broken. And I already had my sister to protect. I couldn’t help her too.

I strode forward, making my way to the end of the platform and then climbed down, right onto the tracks, moving past all the signs that warned not to enter the trainyard. I had time before the train got here. And I needed to prove that ghosts weren’t real.

Whatever I’d been dreaming, it was just some sort of PTSD from my parents death.

But the song, that awful whisper, was growing now, so much that I nearly doubled over on the train tracks. Mallory, Mallory where are you? When are you coming? It’s almost too late now. Beneath me, I could feel the ground shuddering, but the world had narrowed now. Because when I looked up, I saw her.

Dead ahead of me.

A thousand times more terrifying that I’d imagined. Blood had stained her entire front, and she looked at me with deep, sad eyes. But worse that all of that was the blueish-white tinge her skin had taken... as if she’d already drowned.

Her lips moved. She was trying to say something, trying to communicate with me. But I couldn’t hear her... A roaring noise filled my ears, the ground shaking and I wanted to scream to her to leave me alone. That I wasn’t what she needed. That my world had already ended, I wasn’t the hero, I couldn’t take anymore--

I closed my eyes, the roar, the shaking, about to overwhelm me.

She’s not real. This is because you haven’t been sleeping.

When I opened my eyes, she was gone.

But the roaring had grown into a crescendo. Because it wasn’t a roaring.

It was the train about to flatten me.

A force hit me, but not from the side I expected. Strong arms wrapped around me, and I rolled over and under a solid body. The rush of metal and wind screamed passed us--the train mere inches from killing me. When we stopped rolling, I stared at the metal of the train and then finally up at the body suspended over me.

The person who’d just saved my life... and now looked like he wanted to kill me.

Blond hair, with pale grey eyes that were somehow both lived and cold. For a moment I felt the press of a strong male body, the arms that had protected me.

Then he shoved away from me, leaving me sprawled on the ground.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He snarled, glaring down at me, not offering a hand for me to stand. “Were you trying to get hit?”

The train continued to roll into the station past us, so much steel and shrieking metal that I could barely hear him. My heart stuttered, so much adrenaline pulsing through me I couldn’t move. All I could do was stare up at the young man standing over me. Pale blonde hair and strange light grey eyes, with a black suit that looked far too expensive to have rolled on the ground. In fact, he was trying to brush it clean right now, to very little avial.

His eyes came back up to mine, and he glared down at me, a cruelty in his grey eyes, “Well, do you speak?”

“Cillain Dreadmoor?” I climbed to my feet, wanting to claw for any advantage I could.

His eyes narrowed, a wary, accessing look coming over him. “How do you know my name?”

He hadn’t asked for my name, but I gave it anyway. “I’m Mallory Foxglove... we’re both going to interview at Trestlewood. I saw your nametag.”

He gave a cold, cruel laugh, his gaze looking up and down like I was something no better than dirt. “You’re going to interview at Trestlewood? No wonder you wanted the train to hit you.”

My eyes blazed, and I suddenly hated how torn and tattered my clothes were, how I probably looked like shit. And how he, despite the fact he’d just rolled over in gravel, looked close to perfect. In a suit no less. What an asshole.

“I wasn’t trying to get hit. I saw someone,” I said defensively only to wish I hadn’t.

His laughter stopped. And he stared at me like I was a ghost. But he didn’t get to respond, because suddenly a voice called out from the front of the train, which was finally slowing to a stop.

“HEY! YOU TWO! YOU AREN”T ALLOWED BACK HERE! GET OVER HERE! NOW!”

We both turned to see an older man in overalls yelling at us and jumping from the train, running towards us. The train now stood between us and the platform, but that didn’t seem to both Cillian. He had already turned, climbing up the train and over. I did the same, trying to blend into the crowd now forcing it’s way forward. At the very least, I immediately lost Cillian in the flood of people. I forced my way through people, not caring at the annoyed looks I got. I needed to get to Lainey. But now that I was safe, all I could think about was what had almost just happened.

God, that was so stupid. The dreams, the visions, I needed to find a way to silence it all. To forget about it all.

Nothing mattered but a fresh start, and getting Lainey and I somewhere safe.

And pushing down the bad feelings is always a good idea, right reader?

Lainey was sitting motionless exactly where I’d left her. At least the man chasing us had stopped—there was too much going on for him to bother about the two teenagers who’d been on the wrong side of the tracks. He was probably just thankful neither of us had gotten flattened so he hadn’t had to do extra paperwork. Each step I took closer to her, I felt a deeper and deeper sense of stupidity.

What the hell had I been thinking? Why I had indulged the vision?

What if Cillian hadn’t been there and I’d been flattened?

What would have happened to Lainey?

Maybe I wasn’t the hero or the villain of this story. Maybe I was just the stupid character who followed the creepy shadow into the basement and died in the first act.

No. I decided right then and there I would be more careful. I would do whatever I had too—but I would be smart about it. And the smartest thing I could do right now was avoid Cillian Dreadmoor.

“Come on, Lainey, we need to hurry.” I grabbed her hand, but when I pulled her up I spun—and nearly ran smack into the person I’d decided to avoid.

“Ahh, Ms. Foxglove. I worried we’d meet again.” Cillian smiled coldly down at me.

Continue on to Chapter 5 here

Look, there’s a few things we should square away, if you’re going to hear my story.

The first is that I’m not the good girl the world thinks I am. But you probably already guessed that.

The second thing I’ll tell you is far more important. Ready, reader? Here it is: I might not be the hero, but neither is Cillian Dreadmoor. In case you’re one of those air-headed, giggling girls who sees his cruel smile, his mocking eyes, mocking lips, tall frame and think you can fix him—Stop. Just stop. Close the book and save yourself now. You can’t fix him. He’s broken. Cillian is cruel, callous, and thinks the whole world will bow before him. He will use you, break you, consume you, but he’ll never love you.

I don’t think he’s capable of that.

So why, you and I both knowing that, did I end up in a dark forest, standing before a blood-drenched Cillian, with a body at his feet?

Well, my discerning, clever reader, be patient.

That’s all coming.

What you need to know is that I’m not one of those empty-headed girls. I knew, the very first time I stared up at Cillian’s eyes, inches from mine, that he was dangerous.

I didn’t hate him because of that.

I hated him because he was a mirror to the darkness that lived in me.

“This is it, Lainey,” I said, leaning forward to look out the dirty taxi window, the train station now coming into view. I should have felt relieved. Instead I felt only exhausted. We’d spent hours on the bus, but in the end I’d had to use far too much of our money on a taxi to the train station. I couldn’t risk missing it. Now, as I shepherded Lainey out of the car, a flash of panic surged through me as I handed the dollar bills over. Besides this money I’d literally bled for, we had only two small bags each.

That was all that was left of our earlier lives.

We’d only been allowed back in our house for an hour. Lainey had spent most of the time staring at the half-full tea cup still on the counter, but then, when I touched her shoulder, she started, and then went straight into our parents room and emerged with a backpack I knew wasn’t full of her own things. But I couldn’t bring myself to stop her. Or to enter my parents room myself.

There was too much rage inside me. My parents should have protected us. I was afraid that if I saw whatever Lainey had taken of theirs, whatever she chose to hold onto, I would destroy it.

That same rage boiled in me as the taxi driver, a greasy middle-aged man who had watched us a bit too closely, counted out the cash I’d given him. He’d forced me to pay half up-front, and, had I not needed to wait for the train in the station, I would have made a run for it. The fact that I’d paid him in full, and he still insisted on counting it twice, boiled my blood. He wouldn’t have counted if he’d known all I’d done to get that money.

What I might still do.

“Now—I want two hundred more,” he said, his greasy smile taking me in. “Or I tell the cops two minors are here unaccompanied.”

“I paid you what we agreed on,” I said coldly. “And if you stand here for another second, I’m going to start screaming and make up some story about what the old, ugly man did to the pretty young girl.” I stared at him down with the wide blue eyes Lainey and I had both inherited from our mother. On Lainey they were the lightest summer sky. On me they were the frozen ice on a winter lake—cold depths hidden beneath.

Lainey could use her gaze to make others stutter and blush.

I used them the way a snake froze its prey. Or to make a grown man break.

His smile dropped, but he spun and slammed his car door and drove off, muttering something about teenagers as he went. I stared at the disappearing taillights, thinking of all the ways I could make someone like him pay… before I forced myself to focus. I couldn’t take revenge on every person who wronged me—even my rage couldn’t burn the whole world. I had to focus.

So I gave Lainey an encouraging smile she didn’t even see, let alone return. “Come on, Lainey, let’s get up there. Won’t it be fun to ride a train?” Ugh, I sounded like some kind of desperate, absentee parent trying to bond with their kid. We were only two years apart, but it might as well have been centuries between us now.

She said nothing, only silently gathered her bag, the two of us climbing the stairs together. We’d always been told we looked alike, that we favored our beautiful mother, but somehow that beauty was sharper in me, and softer in Lainey.

The interior of the station was full of long wooden benches, with adults who all looked varying degrees of tired and preoccupied. Good. Then they wouldn’t look too close at us. There was one family, but I steered us away from them before I could see if they had daughters or sons. I didn’t want to know.

“Hello,” I said to the woman inside the booth helpfully labeled TICKETS. “I’m Mallory Foxglove, here with my sister Lainey Foxglove. I have an interview at Dracon Hall Academy. How much is a ticket?”

The old woman behind the counter smiled. “Congratulations! I’ve heard such wonderful things about Dracon Hall. Even getting an interview is very impressive.”

I gave her my best good girl smile—passing over the absurd amount of money needed for two tickets. “Thank you. Our family is very proud.” Hear that mom and dad? Your two little girls are heading to your old school. No thanks to either of you.

She passed me printed tickets when I told her my phone was dead—another lie, I no longer had a phone—but she didn’t mind. She clearly came from an era when things were on paper.

“You’ll need to wear these too.” She passed two lanyards with our names neatly printed, and Dracon Hall Academy printed neatly beneath. Again, that kind grandmotherly smile that set me on edge. “Make sure you wear them so we know your unaccompanied minors.”

“Of course. Thank you.” My voice was a bit stiff. Being the good girl had gone from being my default to an uncomfortable mask.

“You’re welcome, dear. Do you or your sister need any help with your luggage?” She leaned around me and frowned. “Is she alright?”

“Just tired,” I said, grabbing Lainey’s hand. “We had to get her up super early. We’ll just wait outside on the platform. Get some fresh air.”

Then I dragged Lainey away from the counter, afraid of that caring, concerned look in her eyes. I didn’t want her to get too good a look at Lainey. I no longer trusted adults. Oh, they’d told us stories about how we’d be ‘cared for and supported’, how everything was done for our ‘best interests’, but that hadn’t stopped them from dumping us in a hell-hole and leaving us to rot.

I pushed the rage aside. I had enough problems for now.. And there was the fact I’d been avoiding sleep for… months.

Ever since I’d seen—

No.

No. I wasn’t doing that. Not today. Dreams were just dreams.

The outer platform was deserted, a strong wind blowing across a train yard full of abandoned train cars covered in graffiti. I settled Lainey and our things on one of the outside benches, before I said, “I’ll go see if I can go get us some snacks for the ride. Stay here and don’t talk to any strangers.”

As I strode back to the door, I noticed something I hadn’t before—an old, but expensive looking trunk with a leather bag tossed carelessly on top. And there, on the trunk, the same lanyard Lainey and I both wore. I glanced around the platform, and, finding it empty but for my sister, leaned in to read the name on top.

Cillian Dreadmoor.

Another student going to Dracon Hall… Did that mean he was also applying for the summer program? From the trunk, it looked like he believed he already was in. But maybe that’s how it went for some people. There were families who had attended the school for generations. Families who had enough money to buy admittance to anything.

So where was he?

I turned, doing a full circle around the station and looking back inside, but there certainly wasn’t anyone else school aged. Beyond us, the abandoned train yard was lit but the unflattering light of morning. Beyond the closest track, were train cars littered with graffiti. It wasn’t exactly the kind of place you should leave your things unattended. And yet he had. It seemed like too much to hope that he’d simply decided he no longer wanted a spot at Trestlewood, and had run off, leaving all the more room for me and my sister.

A cold wind whispered across the train yard, and when I looked up, I saw her.

A girl in a white dress soaking wet...

Blood stained the front of the dress.

Continue on to Chapter Four here.

Hi friends! H.J.Nelson here to say thanks for reading. And that I’ll be popping in occasionally with author extras that you don’t need to read. I’ll include these extras at the very bottom, so you can skip if you aren’t interest in meta/author extras.

One thing I wanted to share was why I’m posting this story. If you don’t know me, I have one traditionally published scifi series (The Last She series) from a book that originally blew up on Wattpad. After I signed with an agent, then that agent left publishing and long story short, I have a new agent and we are currently on submission… and it’s been slow.

So, I wanted to get back to serializing a story and this one felt like a great pick because a) it’s a little non traditional and b) it’s longer than trad pub would like. I’ll talk a bit more about these things if anyone is interested, but one thing you’ve probably noticed is the breaking the third wall or the direct address to the reader. It’s generally not something done in trad pub YA books, but hey, if you get to make the rules then why not break rules?

Anyways, let me know if your interested in author/book/writing things, and I’ll include more of them in post-chapter notes! And seriously, thanks for reading. I know that in today’s world, you’ve got a million other options. Writing is like getting to imagine something, and then have that creation pop into someone else’s brain… it feels like the closet thing to magic we have here, and is a connection I’ll never take for granted.

Till next time, H.J.Nelson)

Lainey didn’t say a thing, just climbed out of the bunk, and grabbed the bag that she kept tucked under her blankets when she slept—everything else of ours had been stolen. We even slept in our shoes after our other pairs disappeared. On the bed I left only a letter, a forgery I’d paid good money to look real, saying we’d been taken in by a distant relative and wouldn’t be returning. Then I took Lainey’s hand and pulled her after me. It felt like I was in some kind of awful movie, peering around the corner, listening for Carter or any of the adults who might stop us. But no one did. For once, neglect worked in our favor.

The bathroom door slowly creaked open, and I peered inside, heart thundering. But here was only the broken mirror, and splatters of blood to mark what had happened. Seeing it, I knew I was right to pay him off. Even if it would make things tight. I would figure it out. I always did.

“It’s just like that big oak we used to climb,” I whispered, pushing the window up and beckoning Lainey forward. The second-floor bathroom window was the only one that opened fully enough and had a shed perched to the side, a short shimmy over. “Be careful climbing down,” I said to Lainey, helping her out. But I didn’t need to worry. She did everything I asked without question, aside from speaking, and we’d climbed all sorts of things as kids.

When I’d hit the ground, I pulled Lainey through the dark, dilapidated neighborhood. Most of the streetlights were out, some flickering, and I found myself thankful for the darkness. It hid us, and all the things I’d done. I wove us through broken fences, trashed yards, only pausing occasionally when I heard music or drunk laughter, making sure to stay out of sight. Finally I pulled her under the willow tree beside the stream that was so littered with trash nothing lived in it. I checked the ground was free of needles and other trash before I settled against the trunk and pulled Lainey down beside me. There was a bus stop a short walk from here. In the morning we’d be on it. And close this chapter of our lives forever.

The hanging vines of the trees provided a sense of safety against the nearby roar of traffic, and the occasional foot traffic. I waited for Lainey to say or do something. To ask where we were going. Why we’d left.. But instead she lay against me, motionless, like a corpse I’d rescued but not revived.

But I would.

I reached into my backpack and pulled out the printed pages, and the letter that I’d taped back together. These few sheets of paper had become the books I’d once used to safeguard me from the world. These were a talisman, a bridger to a better world. I titled the pages so that a single strand of moonlight leaking through the trees lit a picture of a soaring building.

“Look, Lainey? Doesn’t it look like a castle? That’s just the main building too—they’ve got so many others. And horses we can ride, can you imagine? And there’s a giant garden, and a massive centuries old forest surrounding it. They’ve got a summer program, and I’ve got the money now for us to get there. All I have to do is ace the interview and get a scholarship spot. Then we’ll be together, and we’ll be safe, okay?”

She stared down at the flyer and I wanted to scream. I wanted to go back to that house and light it on fire. I wanted to do more than just bury that glass into Carter’s hand—I wanted to sink straight into his beating heart. I wanted to rage against the whole world.

But most of all, I wanted to rage at my parents. Without them, Lainey had slowly wilted, like a plant with no sun, no roots, no water. She needed a safe place, but she also needed something to believe in again. A real-life fairytale had presented itself, and all I had to do was get us there.

I wrapped my hand around her shoulders and I squeezed her tighter. “It’ll be just like a dream.”

She said nothing. Did nothing. But it only made me sure that it was worth all of what I’d done. Dracon Hall would be our safe place, our refuge, the place where she would blossom into that young maiden of the stories.

And the horrible dreams of the dark water pulling me down, down, down, that would go away. So would all the memories of everything I’d done since my parents died. Every dark deed to make sure we could have a bright future.

As the long night passed, as I sat there waiting for the dawn, my sister pressed against me, the cold leaking into my bones, I realized Lainey’s journey wasn’t going to be mine. She could still be the good girl, the girl who followed the rules and loved books and someday fell for a handsome prince. But who I was and who I had become to survive were two very different. The path I’d been forced upon was dark and twisting and filled with monsters.

Are you listening, reader? If the blood hasn’t frightened you, if the shadows don’t scare you, lean in close, because I’ll tell you this truth only once.

I’m not the hero of this story.

I’m the monster.

Continue on to Chapter Three here.

The forest sings as I drown.

Cold black water drags at my skirts, tangles in my hair, pulls me deeper beneath the surface of the lake. I fight anyway, lungs burning, fingers clawing for air that feels impossibly far away. Above me, moonlight ripples over the water, taunting and foreign.

Too late. Always too late.

The forest’s voice is everywhere. In the ripple of the reeds. In the choking water aching to devour and fill me. In the ancient trees leaning over the lake, watching but not helping.

Let go, she whispers.
Give in, she commands.

But I keep fighting. I can’t just fail my sister. And I won’t fail him: the boy who could have saved us. Saved me...

The boy I should have know better to trust.

The boy who is the reason I’m about to die.

My body sinks further. It’s as if some ancient, angry force is pulling me down, as if something alive and hungry lurks beneath the dark. Panic consumes me. I kick and fight and struggle, but the movements are desperate, useless.

The lake tastes of salt and sorrow and doom.

I’ve been running for so long. Fighting for so long.

Maybe I should give in. Maybe the path I choose, the path of violence and blood and claws wasn’t the right now.

I failed.

Above me, the moon becomes a pale blur. My body jerks and grows heavy, drifting downward through silver weeds and black water as I stare up at the moon, so far, far above me...

And somehow it reminds me of his silver hair. Of the one who started all this.

The one who ended me.

Part One: A Study of Glass and Blood

I used to think books held the answers to life. In the pages of a book lay everything I needed. Problems found in the white spaces between black letters.

Now, brandishing a book above my head, I wished it was a real weapon.

“Come on Mallory,” Carter crooned, his tall form blocking my only way forward. “You don’t have to keep up the good girl act for me.” Even in the blinding fluorescent light of a disgusting bathroom, the mirrors reflected a scene that felt more fiction than reality. A fifteen year old girl, with pale skin, dark curly hair and big eyes walking backwards from the boy approaching her. When had my life become such a desperate, sad parody of the books I once read?

I lowered the book, and tried to smile at Carter. “Come on Carter, can we do this in the morning? I just want to go back to bed.” I went to step around him, but he blocked my path, grinning down at me in that way men liked to do. With the confidence that no one would stop them. A cold sort of rage flushed in my chest. I’d been using the book to prop open the window behind me—the only one in this horrible house that could be opened enough for me to crawl out. I’d thought crawling out of a second story window would be my dangerous activity for the night. But noooooo. Now I have to deal with this too.

Life with no parents was so fun.

“Ahh, come on,” Carter said, in a low voice that made the hair on my skin stand on end. “I’ve seen you watching me. I know you want it.” He reached down to squeeze his crouch. Ugh, gross. The only reason I’d been watching him was to make sure he stayed the hell away. “It’s been, what, six months now you’ve been here? And you got kicked out of your last house. Surely by now you know no one is coming for you and your sad little sis. I think it’s time maybe you get on your knees and thankouff—”

His words cut off as the book caught him full in the face. I didn’t wait, swinging my leg and trying to kick him in the balls. He moved first, catching my head and then grabbing my hair and slamming me against the mirror. I heard it shatter, glass falling around me as I saw black for a moment.

Then his hand came around my throat, choking me as his voice came hot on my face. “You little bitch,” he snarled, keeping his voice low. “You think you’re so much better than the rest of us, don’t you? Well, you’re here now. You’re as alone and unforgotten as everyone else”

“Please, just don’t hurt me,” I whimpered. “Please, I’ll do anything.”

He grinned, his hands tightening on my throat. “That’s what I want to hear,” he whispered, leaning into my ear. “See, I knew we could work something out.”

And that’s how it goes, right?

The sweet young maiden, who grew up reading books, waits for a handsome Prince to save her. Sure, the details differ a bit—the monster isn’t usually some rapey teenager holding a girl pinned against a mirror in a halfway house for teenagers who no one wanted.

But you know what always happens in those stupid stories I used to love? Someone comes to save her. Someone kills the monster, and she lives happily after.

But what happens if that young maiden didn’t need someone to slay the monster?

What if she was the one they should fear?

Carter pulled back, working at his pants, and I reached down, searching the sink beside me. The tickle of glass moving sounded under the fluorescent, but I kept searching till I found it, a long, wickedly sharp piece of broken glass. I’d taken to wearing leather gloves at night, to keep my fingerprints from places I didn’t want others to know about. Now came in handy as I lifted the long glass shard.

And then buried it into his hand.

Carted screamed, and something about that sound sang to my blood. I shoved him backwards, and with his pants tangled around his legs he fell hard. Then I lifted another piece of glass, holding it against his throat, as I crouched over him.

“Shut up,” I snarled, pressing the glass to his throat, and his moans turned into pathetic whimpers as he stared up at me, tears in his eyes. “This is how this is going to go. I’m going to leave you a stack of cash, and you’re going to take it and say you hurt your hand on accident. You’re never going to touch another girl without her permission again. Understand?”

He barely moved, tears spilling from his eyes, and I pressed harder till he blubbered, “I understand, I understand!” Pathetic. I shoved him back to the floor and he curled around his hand like some kind of wounded animal. I knew what my little sister Lainey would have said—that he’d a horrible life. That he never had anyone to take care of him, never had anyone to protect him or love him.

Well, tough shit.

My life wasn’t exactly a walk in the park either. Something in me had died when my parents did, and something dark and twisted had risen in its place. But I had Lainey to protect now. And I refused to let her see this ugly side of humanity. She needed to believe in those stories about the Prince and true love and happily ever after.

I would make it true for her, even if I had to find the Prince and threaten him into compliance. Nothing, and I mean nothing, was off the table when it came to Lainey.

I stepped over Carter and his quiet sobs as he pulled the glass shard free, before making my way to the doorway and checking the hallway. Either nobody had heard the commotion, or, far more likely, nobody cared. This house was for kids who nobody wanted.

At the doorway I turned back, opened my backpack and took out one of the small, precious wads of cash. I desperately needed every dollar, and I’d some unspeakable things to get this money, but I also couldn’t have the cops coming after us.. I tossed the money at Carter and he whimpered at the sound it made when it hit the floor. “Remember what I said, Carter,” I warned. “Tell anyone what happened here and I’ll come back and finish the job.”

Then I left the bathroom, making my way down the long twisty hallways of the group home. Most of the walls had holes or writing on them, and the carpet was dirty; their center was worn to a deeper shade of brown than the outer.

It had been almost a year since my parents died, and sometimes I wondered how exactly things had changed so quickly. How could my life be full of life and laughter one moment, and then the next be so cold and empty? How could the people who’d raised us be reduced to two long wood boxes covered in flowers?

Which was why we needed to leave. Tonight. Someday it would be Lainey in that bathroom, and I wouldn’t be there to protect her.

The door to the female bunkroom eased open, and I slipped in, walking tiptoe to stop the ancient floor from creaking. Snores filled the room, a few quiet voices whispering or crying in their sleep. So much pain and sorrow and despair in this room. So much desperate, misplaced hope of parents that might one day return, or get out of jail, or finally get sober or clean.

In some horrible, twisted way, I was glad my parents were dead. It made me realize that absolutely no one was coming to save us.

Lainey was still sleeping on the top bunk—I’d insisted because I was terrified someone might hurt her while I slept. I stepped up on my bunk, reaching out, shaking her awake. “Lainey,” I whispered. “We have to go. Wake up.”

Her wide blue eyes stared at me with such blank emptiness a punch of cold fear hit me. She’d been like this for a year now, and yet still, something twisted in me everytime she looked at me with those blank eyes. I wouldn’t have risked so much, so fast if it weren’t for her. No one seemed to know why she hadn’t spoken a word for the last year. The best I could find in the books I’d found at the library is that she was depressed and in shock and needed a safe place to heal and rest. In other words, somewhere far, far away from here.

“Come on,” I said, trying to make my voice excited and not desperate. “It’s finally happening. Remember our plan? We’re going! It’s time!”

We were finally getting out of here.

Continue on to Chapter Two here.

Hi friends, this is H.J. Nelson, YA author of stories full of wicked magic, tangled loves and fierce heroines. Thanks so much for checking out Draco Hall, a dark academia romance mystery with Draco/Hermione vibes. I will be uploading the entire novel right here, for free, so don’t forget to subscribe! Book description included below.

Hogwarts meet Maxton Hall-but Hermione isn’t the good girl... and Draco is the only one who notices.

Fifteen-year-old Mallory Foxglove was not always made of sharp edges and quiet hunger. Once, she was soft and kind. But the night her parents died tore something open inside her.

Now, with her thirteen-year-old sister in tow and nowhere left to run, Mallory arrives at Trestlewood Academy, an elite boarding school set in the heart of an ancient forest.

From the moment she steps onto its grounds, she knows something dark and haunted lives here. And that she needs to stay away from the cold, arrogant Cillian Dreadmoor. He plays the perfect student... that is until Melody finds him in the woods, soaked in blood, a body at his feet.

Soon Melody and Cillian are swept into a mystery someone has spent centuries burying. A mystery that will force them to descend into the deepest shadows of the forest... and of each other.

DRACON HALL is an ongoing serialized romantasy featuring a slow-burn enemies-to-lovers romance with Hermoine/Draco vibes, set in a Maxton Hall-like elite boarding school filled with secrets. New chapters weekly. Free to read on Substack.