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“Like me. Nobody does.” Her words ripple in my soul, her pain evident in every word.
I want to say “me too” or “girl, same,” but that would diminish her feelings right now, and that’s not my aim. Things are shit, andpeopleeven more so.
“I’m not nobody,” I state in an attempt to reassure her. “I’m Raven.” I watch her rub her lips together nervously as she twists a piece of blonde hair framing her face.
“I’m Leila.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” I feel like a fraud. This level of nicety is not the norm for me, but I’m not usually so out of my depth either.
She clears her throat, standing tall as she smiles. “I’m free first period. I can show you to the office if you like.”
“Thank you,” I breathe in response, relieved I don’t have to navigate this place alone. I fall into step beside her, the courtyard completely empty now as we step inside and head back down the long corridor. When we’re back in the entryway, the cream and gold-flecked marble glistening around us, Leila pauses before a stone door to the left.
“I hope you’re ready for this,” she mutters, pushing it open and stepping inside.
I’m never ready for anything life throws at me, but I’ve made it this far.
What on earth could an academy like Silvercrest put me through that I haven’t already experienced?
4
RAVEN
Leila rapped her knuckles on the door and hightailed it out of here before a voice sounded from the other side for me to enter. Now I’m faced with sharp eyes that meet mine as I swing the door open.
A woman sits behind a mirrored desk, half-moon glasses perched on the bridge of her nose as she assesses me. Her white hair is slicked back into a bun at her neck, and she’s wearing a pristine white skirt and blazer with a golden silk shirt underneath that matches her heels.
She practically blends in with the marble back in the foyer and her glare is anything but welcoming.
Avoiding her stare for a moment, I glance around the room that glows with the sunlight filtering in through the golden-stained window panes. It’s light, airy, and prestigious here, a stark contrast to the surroundings I’m familiar with.
All that sits in this large room are the lady, her desk, and the chair beneath her. A pen scratches along parchment before her, but instead of watching it, she remains focused on me.
“What are you doing here?” Her tone is as sharp as her gaze, threatening to plunge me right back to where I came from.
“Uhh…” I pause, pointing at the door as I glance back at it, wondering if I should have avoided it altogether, but I’m here now. Yet the answer to her question isn’t so simple. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
Her eyes narrow and her nose wrinkles. “Then don’t waste my time.”
Rude much? Despite the instant irritation thrumming through my veins, I take a deep breath and try again.
“No, I mean, uh, I was dropped off here this morning and I don’t know—”
“You don’t know what?” Anyone else would bristle at her tone, at her interruption, but I simply glare openly at her. Dropping my bag from my shoulder, I tilt my head as I observe her.
“Are you okay?”
“Excuse me?” She bristles like I didn’t just ask a normal question.
“I said. Are. You. Okay?” Her eyebrows furrow, but I push on, annoyed enough with her to get my point across. “I was led here by someone because the first guide that met me at the front doors disappeared.” I intentionally redact the fact that it was my brother. “I have no idea where I am or what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m already on edge with all the changes I’ve been through in the past… shit, none of that matters, but your attitude is grating on an already irritated nerve.”
The pen pauses on the parchment and she rears her head back, mouth wide as she gapes in horror at me.
“How dare you,” she hisses, placing her palms flat down on the desk and spreading her fingers out.
“Right, of course, how dareI. But could we skip this bullshit and get to the part where you tell me where I’m supposed to go because Abel gave me no further instruction.” My niceties are gone, any inclination to attempt remaining civil down the drain. I need a damn nap and she’s getting in my way of one.
To my surprise, she shrinks in her seat, jaw moving a few times before words actually pass her lips. “Abel as in Abel… Hendrix?” Her voice is barely more than a whisper and I spy a slight tremble to her fingers.
