Madam Mary made a few stops along the way, which stretched the journey longer than expected. The car rattled over uneven roads, horns blaring from impatient drivers weaving through the city.
I leaned back against the seat, watching skyscrapers rise and fall in the distance, their glass windows catching the sunlight like shards of crystal. The city felt alive, restless, and loud — so different from the suffocating silence of the orphanage.
Finally, after what felt like forever, we arrived at Sliversaint Academy. Its tall black gates loomed before us, iron bars polished to a shine, standing like a silent guardian. The Academy's crest was carved into the center, a symbol of prestige and power.
"We are here," Madam Mary said, her voice steady as she stopped in front of the gate.
I looked around, taking in the familiar sight. Long gardens stretched endlessly, their greenery trimmed with precision. The air smelled fresher here, touched with the faint perfume of roses and lavender drifting from the flowerbeds. The atmosphere was sharp, clean, almost intimidating. This place… it feels like another world.
At the side of the gate, a man in a security uniform stepped forward. His boots clicked against the pavement as he approached the driver's side. He gestured with his hand. "Scroll down," he said firmly.
Madam Mary lowered the window. The man leaned closer, his voice polite but professional. "And how may I help you today, ladies?"
Madam Mary's expression was blank, unreadable. She pointed back at me. "My granddaughter was told to resume here today."
The man's eyes shifted toward me. I met his gaze with a gentle smile. Madam Mary had said the same thing before — calling me her granddaughter. It was strange, hearing her claim me in that way. We were never close, but in moments like this, she shielded me with a word that carried weight.
"Is that so?" the man replied, skeptical. "She must have received an email from the Academy. I need to see it before you proceed. It's protocol, ma'am. Please understand."
I reached into my box and pulled out my phone. My fingers moved quickly as I opened my mail, scanning until I found the message. My heart thumped as I tapped it open, the words glowing on the screen.
Subject: Scholarship Acceptance – Sliversaint Academy
Dear Thalia,
On behalf of Sliversaint Academy, I am delighted to inform you that you have been granted admission into our institution on a full scholarship. Your outstanding achievements and potential have distinguished you, and we are confident that you will thrive in our academic community.
You are expected to resume classes in two weeks' time, and our staff and students are excited to welcome you into the Academy. We believe your presence will enrich our school environment, and we look forward to supporting your journey of growth and excellence.
Warm regards,
David Richard
Headmaster, Sliversaint Academy
I scrolled down, showing the QR code at the bottom left corner of the letter. The man brought out a scanner and held it over the code.
Beep.
"You are clear," he said, his tone softening. "Welcome to Sliversaint Academy."
The gates creaked open slowly, metal grinding against stone. Beyond them, the dazzling campus stretched wide. Madam Mary started the car and drove in.
The sight overwhelmed me — long green gardens stretched on either side, their hedges cut into perfect shapes. At the center front stood a fountain, water sparkling under the sunlight, spraying arcs that caught the wind. Students walked in small groups across the grounds, their uniforms crisp, their laughter echoing faintly.
My mind raced. This is it. Where everything begins.
Madam Mary parked in the lot, the car engine humming low before she cut it off. For a moment, silence hung heavy between us, broken only by the distant chatter of students and the soft splash of the fountain.
I picked up my box and opened the door, stepping out. The air carried a relaxing yet familiar scent — trimmed grass, blooming flowers, and the faint trace of stone warmed by the sun. It wrapped around me like a welcome I didn't expect. Strange… I've been here before, yet it feels new, sharper, almost alive.
"Thalia," Madam Mary called. I turned my head toward her voice.
Will this be another pep talk? I wondered, moving closer to the driver's side. Her face was unreadable, the same mask she always wore.
"You can find your way around, right?" she asked, her tone brisk.
I nodded, clutching the box tighter.
"Good. Be a good kid out there." Her voice was steady, almost flat, but beneath it I caught something softer — a flicker of care she would never admit.
The car vibrated as she started the engine. Without another word, she pulled away, the vehicle rolling slowly toward the exit.
I stood there, watching the car shrink into the distance. We were never close enough for a heartwarming farewell. This is better, I guess. Cleaner. Easier.
The Academy loomed before me, its towering buildings framed by long gardens and the fountain's spray catching the sunlight. The walls were tall, painted in shades of cream and gray, with windows that gleamed like mirrors. Flags bearing the Academy's crest fluttered in the breeze.
Students moved across the grounds, some laughing, some rushing with books tucked under their arms. Their voices blended into a chorus of energy and life. I felt the weight of my box pressing into my arms, grounding me in the moment. I don't belong here yet. But I will.
I adjusted my grip, straightened my back, and took a deep breath.