Avery's POV

The luxury sedan came to a halt outside Silverwood Preparatory's imposing iron gates. I stayed seated in the leather interior, watching through tinted windows as my destination revealed itself in all its glory.

Silverwood Preparatory stretched before me like something out of an architectural dream. Every detail whispered wealth and exclusivity.

Pristine. Magnificent. Absolutely untouchable.

The building's facade gleamed with ivory stone, adorned with golden accents that caught the morning light. Towering windows of stained glass added an almost cathedral-like grandeur to the structure.

The manicured grounds looked like they belonged in a luxury magazine spread. Emerald lawns stretched endlessly, framed by precisely sculpted hedges and flower beds overflowing with perfect roses.

This wasn't just any educational institution. Silverwood ranked among New Jersey's most elite private schools.

Its reputation preceded it, famous for producing renowned artists, powerful business leaders, and high society's finest.

The soft sound of my door opening broke my concentration. I stepped onto the polished driveway and offered the chauffeur a grateful nod.

"Thank you, George."

George maintained his trademark professional demeanor. "I'll return this evening to collect you, Miss Miller." His tone remained respectful and measured. "Please call should you require assistance."

I nodded, adjusting my bag strap while drawing in a steadying breath.

Senior year had finally arrived, bringing with it increased pressure and expectations. The sedan's engine purred as George departed, leaving me standing alone before the academy's intimidating entrance.

"God, Fiona is driving me absolutely insane," Brielle Foster announced, approaching with visible irritation.

My attention shifted from the building to my best friend's familiar figure. Brielle's golden hair fell in perfectly tousled waves that seemed to capture sunlight. She wore our standard uniform with effortless style - the black and white pleated skirt, crisp white shirt, and black tie. Her jewelry was understated yet clearly expensive.

"Good morning, gorgeous," I greeted her, fighting back amusement.

Few things could work Brielle into such a state, and I knew whatever story was coming would be completely outrageous.

"I swear I'm about two seconds away from slamming her face into something solid. One more day of this torture and you'll be visiting me behind bars."

I shook my head, smiling despite myself. Brielle wasn't making empty threats about the violence.

She'd always been passionate, sharp-tongued, and absolutely fearless when expressing her opinions. Her habit of wearing her heart on her sleeve was something I genuinely admired.

"She's still staying with you? Wasn't she supposed to leave days ago?"

Brielle's expression darkened further. "Apparently she's forgotten how doors work.

I honestly don't understand how we share DNA. We couldn't be more different if we tried, and Princess Perfect-Life thinks she owns the world while I'm supposed to worship at her altar."

I leaned closer, giving her my complete attention. Having encountered Fiona several times, I understood Brielle's frustration perfectly. Fiona's arrogance was suffocating. She'd attempted friendship with me, but her motivation clearly centered around my family's influence rather than genuine connection.

"While I'd happily assist with body disposal, I'd prefer keeping my best friend out of prison."

I offered an exaggerated curtsy, hoping to lighten her mood. "Therefore, I humbly request you spare her worthless life, your majesty. Despite any murderous impulses."

Brielle attempted to maintain her scowl but failed spectacularly. Her familiar brilliant smile broke through as she replied playfully, "We both know who really rules this kingdom."

Wealth created hierarchies, and hierarchies bred popularity. Both my parents dominated their respective fields - my mother as a philanthropist and interior design visionary, my father as a renowned technology investor. They'd also co-founded Silverwood Preparatory, automatically granting me royal status here.

Students and faculty constantly sought my friendship, hoping to gain access to my parents' world.

This made Brielle precious beyond measure. She was the only person who saw me as more than a stepping stone to power.

My thoughts scattered as Brielle continued speaking. "I might graciously choose to be mature and avoid physical violence, but revenge is definitely happening. And you, my dear partner in crime, are absolutely helping me."

I gave her a wary look, uncertain about her plotting since her expression suggested Fiona wouldn't enjoy whatever was coming. "Perhaps you should explain exactly what she did this time."

Brielle groaned dramatically, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Don't even get me started," she muttered bitterly. "She hooked up with this guy I'd been connecting with. There was definitely chemistry between us. At least I believed there was, but apparently I was completely delusional and..."

We both froze just inside the school's main entrance, confusion replacing our conversation as we noticed something distinctly wrong.

Nobody was greeting us or waving like usual. Instead, the typically vibrant hallway buzzed with an underlying tension we'd never experienced before.

Students clustered in small groups, leaning together as whispered conversations passed between them. Whatever information was circulating seemed too explosive for normal discussion.

"I guess he's returned," Brielle murmured beside me, though her attempt at whispering failed to lower her volume significantly.

I turned toward her with raised eyebrows. "Who returned?"

She glanced nervously around the corridor, wearing an expression of genuine concern, before moving closer to whisper directly in my ear. This time her voice dropped to an actual whisper. "Ronan Thorne."

...

Avery's POV

The way Brielle whispered that name sent ice through my veins. Like speaking it aloud might summon something dark and dangerous.

I stared at her, confused, and her eyes went wide when she realized I had absolutely no clue who this Ronan Thorne person was supposed to be.

"Right, I keep forgetting you were locked away with tutors until recently." She glanced down the hallway again, this time with genuine nervousness rather than her usual dramatic flair. "He's basically our school's version of the boogeyman."

"You're making him sound like some kind of monster." I couldn't help but smile at her theatrics, though something about the way other students were whispering and shooting worried looks around had my stomach twisting.

Brielle's playful expression vanished completely. Her dark eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made me step back. "Listen to me very carefully, Avery. If you see him coming, you turn around and walk the other way. Everyone knows that rule here. Nobody wants to deal with whatever darkness follows him around."

"Don't you think you're being a little dramatic?"

"I'm being dead serious." The edge in her voice made my skin prickle. "There's a reason the entire school treats him like a walking disaster, and trust me, it's a damn good reason." She chewed her bottom lip, weighing her words carefully. "He doesn't exactly play well with others. Never has. The only reason everyone's freaking out is because nobody expected him to come back after what happened when he left."

I nodded slowly, my curiosity burning despite myself. What could possibly have happened to make an entire school this terrified of one person? But I forced myself to push those questions down. I needed to get through senior year without any complications.

It had taken extensive begging before my parents finally agreed I needed real social interaction instead of virtual study sessions from our isolated estate. Even though they were rarely around to enforce their rules, I couldn't risk doing anything that might make them lock me away again.

I had to stay out of trouble. As popular as I'd become, I still felt like I was stumbling through social situations, and Brielle was my lifeline in this unfamiliar world.

We'd clicked instantly on my first day and had been practically joined at the hip ever since.

"Enough about our resident villain," Brielle said, deliberately changing the subject. "I can't believe we're stuck in different classes for first and second period." She let out an exaggerated groan.

"I know, it's torture." We'd compared schedules and discovered we'd barely see each other this semester.

"How am I supposed to survive without you? It's bad enough being trapped in this educational prison during the week, but now I have to suffer through it alone."

"Says the girl with a perfect GPA," I laughed. We were both honor students, which made her constant complaining about school even more amusing.

"Just because I'm good at something doesn't mean I enjoy it, sweetheart."

The first bell rang, cutting through our conversation. "Hours and hours of pure misery ahead of us."

"That's not what the school day is supposed to represent."

"It's what it represents to me." Her deadpan delivery had me giggling. "Anyway, let's meet up between classes since we both have third and fourth period free before lunch."

"Sounds perfect, Brie." I pulled my books from my locker, already dreading the separation.

We waved goodbye and headed in opposite directions. The hallway emptied quickly as everyone rushed to beat the late bell. I was juggling my books, double-checking that I had everything I needed, when I rounded the corner and slammed straight into what felt like a brick wall.

Except it wasn't a wall. It was a person.

My books exploded from my arms, scattering across the floor in a cascade of paper and binding. I blinked hard, trying to process what had just happened.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," I breathed, dropping to my knees to gather the mess I'd created.

Silence. Not even an acknowledgment that I'd spoken. But I could feel eyes boring into me, studying me with an intensity that made my skin crawl.

I started to look up, to see if this person had even heard my apology, when suddenly I was shoved backward. Hard. My body hit the cold tile floor with a jarring impact that knocked the wind out of my lungs.

A shocked gasp tore from my throat as my heart hammered in disbelief. The books I'd managed to collect scattered again, mocking my efforts.

I scrambled to gather them, clutching the stack against my chest as I pushed myself back to my feet. I was more stunned than hurt, not because of the fall but because of the sheer audacity of what had just happened.

Nobody at Silverwood would dare lay a finger on me, let alone knock me down like I was nothing. I spun around to confront whoever had the nerve to treat me like that.

A tall figure was already walking away, moving down the now-empty hallway with predatory grace. All black clothing, black hoodie pulled low over his head, projecting an aura of complete indifference to what he'd just done.

"Seriously?" I muttered under breath, but he was already gone.

I made it to English class just before Mr. Fisher arrived, sliding into my front-row seat with relief. But my mind kept drifting back to that encounter, to the stranger who'd treated me like I was invisible.

Forget him, I told myself firmly. Whoever that jerk was, he wasn't worth another second of my time.

"Good morning, class," Mr. Fisher announced as he entered.

"Good morning, Mr. Fisher," we chorused back automatically.

"Today we'll be reviewing the semester syllabus before diving into our first unit." His eyes swept the room as he moved to the whiteboard. "Take out your notebooks."

I forced myself to focus, pulling out my materials and pushing thoughts of rude strangers from my mind.

A short while into the lesson, the classroom door opened.

The temperature seemed to drop instantly.

Every head turned toward the entrance, where a imposing figure stood silhouetted in the doorway. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed entirely in black with a matching hoodie pulled so low it cast shadows across his face. A face mask covered the lower half of his features, making him look more like a threat than a student.

But there was something about his presence, something that made the air itself feel heavier.

Something dangerous.

"Mr. Thorne," Mr. Fisher said flatly, not bothering to hide his irritation. "How generous of you to grace us with your presence."

Thorne. As in Ronan Thorne.

The infamous ghost Brielle had warned me about.

My gaze traveled over him again, searching for clues about what made him so feared. Besides the obvious intimidation factor of concealing his entire identity, of course.

Wait. That hoodie looked familiar.

My eyes narrowed as recognition hit me like a physical blow. The same black hoodie. The same imposing build. The same aura of cold indifference.

The rude jerk from the hallway was Ronan Thorne.

Perfect. Just perfect.

As if I needed another reason to stay far away from him. Whatever dark reputation he'd earned, his behavior toward me had already proven Brielle right.

I started to look back down at my notes when something made me glance up one more time. My breath caught in my throat.

He was staring directly at me.

Even with the hood shadowing his features, I could feel the weight of his attention like a physical touch. It felt like he was studying me the same way I'd been studying him, and the intensity of it sent electricity racing down my spine.

Heat flooded my cheeks as embarrassment crashed over me at being caught staring.

I quickly looked down at my desk, my hands gripping the edges of my chair so tightly my knuckles went white. Anywhere but at him.

"Take a seat, Mr. Thorne, so we can continue," Mr. Fisher said with barely concealed annoyance. Like before, his words were met with complete silence.

I kept my eyes glued to my notebook as footsteps moved toward the back of the classroom, but I could still feel that dark presence watching me.

This was going to be a very long semester.

...

Avery's POV

"And I was like, why do you always go after the guys I'm interested in? She can't tell me she isn't doing this deliberately." Brielle grumbled beside me, updating me on her latest confrontation with Fiona. "She kept insisting that he pursued her, that she was just helping me see his true colors. Right, by sleeping with him. God, I wanted to wipe that smug expression right off her face."

Brielle and I walked toward the cafeteria together. As promised, we had met in the hallway after second period and attended the remaining classes before lunch side by side.

"Shouldn't you be furious with him too? What was his name again?"

"Jerk," she replied with a mischievous grin. "Doesn't matter now. I've completely lost interest in him." She exhaled heavily. "What irritates me is that out of all the girls he could have chosen, he went for Fiona. It feels like a personal insult, honestly."

"He's obviously not worth your time, stringing you along only to fall for Fiona's games." I placed my hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently.

"I just can't figure out why she feels the need to compete with me constantly. She targets every guy I show even the smallest interest in and does everything possible to make my life difficult, then acts like I'm some pampered princess to our family." Brielle sighed, and despite her attempts to downplay it, I could see that Fiona's behavior was wearing her down, especially considering how close they used to be.

I placed both hands on her shoulders, stopping our movement as I turned her to face me. "You are the furthest thing from a pampered princess. I, as your best friend, can vouch for that." Her lips curved into a smile. "And if you ever need backup dealing with your family, I'm ready to help."

"You know, dealing with them would require serious strength, and you, my dear Avery, are about as strong as a butterfly." I gasped dramatically at this accusation while Brielle threw her head back laughing.

"Take that back immediately."

"I wish I could, sweetheart." She continued giggling. "That's exactly why we both need sustenance if we're going to face down every single one of my relatives who sides with Fiona. This is my way of saying I'm absolutely starving."

I laughed and shook my head. "Me too." I glanced past her, still smiling, when I spotted a familiar hooded figure leaving the counselor's office. Based on how forcefully he slammed the door, he appeared quite agitated.

As though he sensed my attention on him, his hooded form turned toward me, and my breathing hitched. It was remarkable how, despite not being able to see his eyes clearly, I could feel his stare penetrating my skin, holding me frozen. It felt like being under some sort of spell, unable to break eye contact.

The hallway, typically crowded with students, seemed to disappear around us, leaving only the two of us. The power of his presence was tangible, even from this distance. My thoughts raced with questions.

What had upset him so much?

It's not your concern, Avery.

Yet my pulse quickened, a combination of intrigue and unease churning inside me. I attempted to look elsewhere, but found myself mysteriously pulled back to him, like being drawn to danger.

There was something about him that demanded attention, a puzzle that called out to be solved.

"Avery," Brielle called softly, worry evident in her voice. "What's happening?"

I faced her, breaking free from my trance, and forced a smile. "Nothing important. Let's go eat."

When we entered, the cafeteria buzzed with conversation, the sound of silverware clinking, and occasional bursts of laughter.

With our hands linked, we weaved through the crowd of students, nodding politely and smiling as we approached the serving line.

When our turn arrived, we grabbed trays and examined the food options before I settled on the classic chicken salad while Brielle chose the spicy tofu stir-fry.

Carrying our meals, we found seats at a table. We started eating immediately, conversation flowing naturally between us.

"I feel like we've spent half the day discussing my problems. What about you? Did anything interesting happen during break?" Brielle asked with a pout. "I hate that we couldn't spend more of the holiday together. How was your Rome trip?"

"Um," I bit my lip, uncertain how to explain that I never actually went on the trip. My parents had canceled at the last minute, as usual, and I couldn't bring myself to go alone, knowing I'd probably spend most of the time feeling lonely. Instead, I had returned home, locked myself in my room, snacked constantly, and binged my favorite movies.

"Hello, earth to Avery. You've been zoning out constantly today."

Brielle tapped the table, pulling me from my thoughts. "What's going on? Are you hiding something from me?" she asked with concern.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just trying to work through some math problems that have been bothering me." I lied, giving her an artificial smile. I knew I could easily tell her the truth, but I didn't want her to feel guilty about enjoying her own family vacation.

Brielle studied me for a moment as if checking my honesty before making a face and muttering, "Nerd." I laughed at this, sticking my tongue out playfully. "So how did your holiday really go? Any boys, multiple boys, or maybe girls?" She winked at the last suggestion, making me shake my head while laughing.

"There were no boys or multiple boys," I told her. "And I'm definitely sure I don't swing that way. I think."

"Come on, you can't tell me nothing exciting happened. I mean, you're absolutely stunning." She let out a slow whistle. "You must have turned heads everywhere you went."

I felt my cheeks warm, hoping desperately that no one was eavesdropping. "I spent most of the holiday in my hotel room, so really, nothing exciting happened."

"Knowing you, I absolutely believe that." She replied, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "We need to change things this year. It's senior year, which means we need to make our lives more adventurous. Away from those boring dinner parties we're forced to attend and this pretend prison we're required to attend against our will, by the way." She shouted the last part.

"Brie!"

"What?" She shrugged. "You know I'm right." She replied sassily, and I shook my head, trying to ignore the stares from other students while Brielle remained completely unbothered. "But that's not the main point."

"And what is the main point?" I asked, rolling my eyes playfully.

"That I've had my share of dating, breakups, and everything else. While you, my dear, sweet Avery, have had none. Absolutely none, and we need to fix that. You need romance in your life, and maybe some physical excitement too." She winked again.

I tapped the table, my cheeks burning. "I don't think I'm ready for any physical excitement," I whispered. "I haven't even held hands with a guy for more than minutes or done anything remotely intense."

"Aww," Brielle cooed. "I forgot how incredibly innocent you are."

I bit my lip, fighting the blush, worried that my entire face was red by now. "Besides, I'm not interested in anyone right now."

"Oh no, I wouldn't say that." She smirked, leaning closer. "Not when a certain blond-haired, blue-eyed someone has been staring in this direction since we arrived."

My heartbeat accelerated at her words. "What?" I whispered breathlessly.

"Don't look too quickly, but Caleb has been watching this way, specifically at you, since we walked in." She continued with a smile. "He's barely looked away from you."

I slowly turned to look toward Caleb's usual spot, surrounded by football team members. My breath caught when our eyes met. A warm, genuine smile spread across his face as he raised his hand, waving at me.

I bit my lower lip, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I shyly waved back, which made his smile grow even brighter and my face flush deeper.

"Look who's turning red," Brielle teased, making me look away bashfully as I attempted a stern look, which failed completely. Instead, my cheeks grew hotter.

I pressed both hands to my cheeks, trying to cool them down while Brielle watched with amusement.

After regaining some composure, I turned back to look at Caleb. He was chatting with friends, but sensing my gaze, he turned toward me again, our eyes locking once more. I watched him bite his lip slowly, a smile stretching across his handsome features.

Brielle squealed at this. "Oh my God, you two are adorable. I can't handle it." She gushed, making me smile even more. "I don't understand why you both don't just admit your feelings and start dating. You've known him longer than you've known me. You practically grew up together."

I fidgeted with my fingers, shaking my head. "I suppose we're both afraid of ruining what we have." My chest tightened. "What if we date and things don't work out? What if..."

"What if they do work out, and you end up having one of the greatest relationships ever?" Brielle said gently. "You'll never know unless you try." She paused, nodding her head. "You might want to act quickly though, because the queen bee over there is making her move."

My attention returned to the table to find Sloane settling beside Caleb, her fingers tightly entwined with his hand as if her life depended on it.

Her expression radiated victory, a smirk dancing on her lips as she glanced sideways at me. It was a look that communicated everything, a silent message intended solely for me.

Sloane leaned closer, resting her head on Caleb's shoulder with practiced familiarity that seemed forced. Her body language made a statement, a bold declaration that she had no plans to give up her position.

Caleb appeared unaware, or perhaps simply unconcerned, about the drama playing out beside him. His attention stayed focused on his conversation, his manner calm and collected.

"This isn't the moment for overthinking. It's senior year. You need to seize the opportunity. Step outside your comfort zone."

"I..." The sound of something crashing to the floor captured not only our attention but everyone's in the cafeteria.

We all looked toward Caleb's table, where the disturbance originated, to see Ronan standing there with food splattered across his clothing. His lunch tray lay scattered on the floor, making it obvious what had occurred.

The jocks at the table burst into laughter, their voices echoing throughout the room. Zane, one of the players, stood up and approached where Ronan stood.

With a contemptuous expression, he spit in Ronan's direction and sneered, "Freak," loud enough for everyone to hear. His words lingered as he shouldered past Ronan, strutting out of the cafeteria with some of his teammates following.

The room descended into uncomfortable silence. The incident left everyone unsettled, the laughter dissolving into whispered conversations and awkward glances. Those remaining exchanged uncertain looks, unsure how to respond as Ronan stormed out of the cafeteria.

"This semester is going to be intense," Brielle said just as the bell rang, marking the end of lunch.

Brielle and I stood up, clearing our leftovers before heading out of the cafeteria, but thoughts of what had just happened continued haunting my mind.

...

Avery's POV

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the school courtyard as I walked alongside Brielle toward the main entrance.

"I still have to stay late because of the science fair, but I'll message you once I'm home," she said, adjusting her backpack strap.

"Look who's calling who a nerd now," I teased, bumping her shoulder playfully.

She shot me an exaggerated eye roll. "Mrs. Evans practically begged me for help organizing the science fair. She said she was desperate, and with my reputation for throwing incredible parties, how could I refuse?"

"You realize it's going to be crawling with academic types, right?"

"Perhaps. Or perhaps not." A mischievous grin spread across her face as she shrugged.

"That look tells me you're scheming something," I said, raising an eyebrow and laughing.

"Because I absolutely am." Her laugh was infectious. "And you're definitely coming to this science fair."

"I really don't think..."

"Absolutely not," she interrupted, waving her hand dismissively. "I refuse to accept any excuses."

Brielle grabbed my hand, fixing me with those irresistible puppy dog eyes until I felt my resistance crumbling. A defeated sigh escaped my lips, and her victorious smile bloomed instantly.

"Fine, you win," I conceded.

She squealed with delight, practically bouncing on her feet. "Perfect! We shouldn't keep George waiting any longer. I'll text you tonight when I get home."

"Sounds good. Enjoy planning your science extravaganza," I said, waving as she turned to go.

"Ugh, don't remind me," she groaned dramatically before waving back.

I watched her disappear through the school doors, then made my way toward the waiting car where George stood beside the sleek black vehicle.

"Miss Miller," he greeted me with a respectful nod.

"Hello, George," I replied with a warm smile, sliding into the backseat. "Thank you."

George closed the door with practiced precision before settling behind the wheel. The engine purred to life, and we glided away from the school grounds into the flow of afternoon traffic.

As we transitioned from busy city streets to the open highway, I allowed myself to sink deeper into the plush leather seat. The day's tensions began melting away as I closed my eyes, surrendering to the car's gentle rhythm. Sleep beckoned, but the vehicle's deceleration stirred me back to consciousness.

Opening my eyes, I spotted our estate's familiar silhouette emerging through the trees. I turned toward the passenger window, and something immediately captured my attention.

Beyond a winding path that disappeared into the dense forest stood an imposing structure. Even partially obscured by towering trees, its majestic form commanded notice against the darkening sky. This wasn't merely a mansion.

It was a castle.

The building stood like a mysterious guardian, radiating both historical magnificence and artistic elegance. An aura of abandonment surrounded it, a quiet nobility that whispered of secrets yet untold.

Curiosity stirred within me, the same fascination that gripped me whenever I glimpsed this enigmatic structure. I'd never witnessed any signs of life there, no coming or going of residents. But then again, I spent most of my days confined indoors.

Such was the unfortunate reality of my existence.

I pushed those melancholy thoughts aside as our estate gates opened automatically. The car swept along the pristine driveway before stopping at our front entrance.

George emerged first, quickly moving to open my door.

"Thank you, George," I said, offering him a gentle smile as I stepped out with my bag draped over one shoulder.

Drawing a deep breath, I approached our home's grand entrance and pushed through the heavy doors. The familiar opulent interior welcomed me with its understated luxury.

The expansive hallway stretched before me, lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that filtered golden afternoon light across polished marble floors. Rich emerald velvet curtains framed each window, while the cream-colored walls displayed an impressive collection of framed artwork and abstract paintings.

"Avery, sweetheart," a gentle voice called out, immediately brightening my mood.

"Martha," I said, walking toward the woman who had been my constant companion throughout my entire life. Time had etched delicate lines across her face, testament to years filled with joy, sorrow, and life's inevitable challenges.

Despite everything, her countenance radiated peace and warmth, anchored by her most remarkable feature: her radiant smile.

I leaned in to kiss her cheek, feeling her comforting pat on my back. "How was school today, dear?"

As I pulled back, memories of the day flooded through me: encounters with him-who-must-remain-nameless, the cafeteria drama, and various other incidents.

"Well, I wouldn't call it boring, but it certainly had its moments," I said with a chuckle.

Martha smiled knowingly, nodding. "Why don't you go freshen up? I'll prepare something and bring it to your room."

"Thank you, Martha."

"Think nothing of it," she replied before heading toward the kitchen.

I smiled at her retreating figure and climbed the stairs to my bedroom. Once inside, I tossed my bag and phone onto the bed, changed out of my school clothes, and selected something comfortable from my walk-in closet before heading to the bathroom.

Sighing, I moved toward the bathtub and turned on the faucets, then gathered body wash, shampoo, and conditioner from the shower.

I exhaled slowly as hot water filled the tub, the warmth enveloping my legs and easing the tension from my muscles.

Using generous amounts of soap, I scrubbed every inch of my body thoroughly but gently, feeling refreshed with each motion.

I applied the same attention to my hair, massaging the shampoo into my scalp with careful fingertips. As I worked the lather through my strands, I gradually released my grip and tipped backward, submerging my head completely beneath the surface.

I remained there, playing a dangerous game I'd perfected over years of practice.

Sinking into the hot water, I challenged myself to hold my breath as long as possible, allowing the threatening surge of water to drown out every other sound.

Breathing rapidly, I waited until the very last second before surfacing again.

When I finally came up for air, euphoria rushed through me unlike anything else I'd ever experienced. Both my head and chest felt that intoxicating high.

My personal record was one minute and forty-two seconds. With my eyes squeezed shut and the faucet continuing to pour fresh water into the tub, I began counting.

I had just reached thirty-eight when a knock at the bathroom door startled me. The sudden interruption caused me to inhale water as I jerked upright, my eyes watering as I coughed violently.

"Avery, dear," Martha's concerned voice came through the door. "Is everything alright in there?"

"Yes, I accidentally inhaled some soap bubbles," I lied, finally catching my breath.

"Please be careful, sweetheart," she said, worry evident in her tone. "I've left your meal on the table. You should eat it while it's still warm."

"I'll be right out," I replied, running a hand over my face and through my wet hair. I strained to listen for her departure. After a moment, I heard faint footsteps moving away from the door, followed by the soft click of my bedroom door closing.

Once she was gone, I finished my bath routine.

After thoroughly washing away the day's stress, I slipped into comfortable green plaid sweatpants and a white tank top before emerging from the bathroom.

Perfect timing, as another knock sounded at my door. Martha entered carrying a plate of cookies and a glass of juice.

"I thought you might want something to snack on later after you finish your dinner."

She placed the cookies and juice beside the bowl of pasta already waiting on my table.

"Everything smells incredible," I said, inhaling the tempting aroma as I moved toward the table to grab a cookie. Martha's gentle tap on the back of my hand stopped me.

She gave me a mock stern look. "Dinner first, dear."

I pouted dramatically, holding up one finger with pleading eyes. "Just one tiny bite, please?" I deployed my most effective puppy dog expression, complete with an exaggerated pout.

Slowly, I watched her resolve weaken. She sighed, but I caught the slight twitch of her lips. "Fine, just one small bite."

I squealed with delight, snatching up a cookie and taking a bite. The perfect blend of chocolate and peanut butter made me want to moan with pleasure.

"You're absolutely the best, Martha."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "You tell me that constantly."

"Because I can never say it enough," I replied honestly.

"You're too kind, Avery." Her gaze held both affection and sympathy. Martha clasped her hands in front of her, lips parting as if she wanted to speak but seemed hesitant. "I'll leave you to your meal then, dear. Call if you need anything."

She squeezed my shoulder gently before moving toward the door.

I stared at the delicious pasta before me, debating whether to enjoy my food or voice the question that constantly plagued my thoughts. I knew asking would only dampen my mood.

Don't do it, Avery.

You've managed a peaceful day without letting them ruin it.

Keep it that way.

But instead, I heard myself whisper, "Any phone calls today?" My voice was so quiet I barely recognized it.

Martha's expression softened as she turned back to me. That familiar grief flickered in her eyes, silent but unmistakable, as she slowly shook her head. "Not today, sweetheart."

She replied gently. "But I'm certain they'll call soon. They're probably just overwhelmed with work, trying to wrap up everything so they can return before your birthday. There's no need to worry."

"I suppose you're right," I managed a weak smile, fighting to keep my lips from trembling.

Silence stretched between us, both of us acknowledging the lie that hung in the air. A comforting fiction neither of us believed, and we both knew it.

Most of the time, my parents remained unreachable, their phones going straight to voicemail, every message I sent ignored. Their careers always took priority. I'd learned to accept this reality, despite how deeply it wounded me.

Martha stepped forward and gently squeezed my hand. "You're precious, Avery. They may be far away, but you're always in their hearts. I'm sure they're planning something special for your birthday."

I smiled weakly, pulling my hand free from her grasp. "I need some fresh air." I stood abruptly, heading for my bedroom door.

"What about your dinner?" Martha called after me, worry filling her voice.

"I'll eat later. I just need to..." I took a shaky breath. "I need... I need..."

"Breathe, sweetheart, breathe," she said, wrapping her arms around me, her hands rubbing soothing circles on my back. "Just breathe for me, love. One breath at a time."

Following her guidance, I took deep, measured breaths until I felt my panic subsiding. I stepped back from her embrace, taking her hands in mine. "I need some fresh air."

"You know you can't leave without your father's permission..."

"WELL, HE'S NOT HERE! THEY NEVER ARE!" I screamed, immediately regretting my outburst. I didn't want to take my frustration out on her. She'd been nothing but wonderful to me; it was unfair to make her the target of my anger. "I'm sorry, Martha."

"It's alright, dear," she said with a small smile, though I noticed the shimmer of tears in her green eyes.

"Martha..."

"I'll have George prepare the car."

"No," I shook my head firmly. "I'm not going far. I just want to be alone." I brushed past her and stormed out of the house.

The evening air struck my skin like a shock, contrasting sharply with the turmoil raging inside me. The coolness seemed to penetrate my clothes, momentarily anchoring me to the present. I continued walking, my footsteps echoing against the pavement in rhythm with the pounding in my head.

Rushing through the estate gates, I moved without direction, my mind racing ahead while everything around me blurred together.

I only stopped when I realized how far I'd wandered. The world around me had grown quiet, as if holding its breath in anticipation. Through deep breathing, I tried to ease the ache in my chest, each inhale a slow surrender to the evening's coolness.

A wave of uncertainty washed over me now that I was out here. I stood there, wondering where to go next, but my mind remained blank.

I took a deep breath and looked up at the sky, watching the sun set in brilliant shades of orange and pink. I blinked back tears, feeling the weight of everything crushing down on my chest.

The realization hit me that I had nowhere else to go. No place existed where I could escape from all this chaos inside me.

I should return home, back to my prison disguised with elegant walls and beautiful designs.

Taking another deep breath, I turned to head back when I heard distant sounds: twigs snapping, followed by something hitting the ground hard.

My heart jumped as I turned toward the noise, recognizing it came from the direction of that mysterious house I'd seen on the drive home.

My brow furrowed as I stared cautiously in that direction. This would be the perfect moment to run back to the estate and ignore whatever was happening out there. But being who I am, I felt an inexplicable pull and overwhelming curiosity. With careful steps, I ventured into the woods.

Right now, I wished I had ignored that impulse and listened to my rational thoughts warning me otherwise.