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Prologue
The past
Charlize - Aged 13
I heard the commotion from the classroom; raised voices that were getting louder. Everyone did. And there was no mistaking who it was.
Alistair Devereaux had been a permanent fixture in my life for the last few years, yet, I’d seen him only a handful of times. That was largely due to the fact I was at boarding school for the majority of the years, and subsequently, I saw anyone from back home less and less.
My heart soared when I thought he could be here for me, to take me back to Kent and go to a normal school where I can be home every night. Home? It’s not a word I’m familiar with. If we’re talking about the house my mum shares with Alistair, I’ve spent one Christmas there.
My mum and I aren’t close. She had me when she was fifteen, and a large part of me thinks I ruined her life. She’d always had difficulties in expressing any kind of emotion, and when we do get those rare moments alone together, she takes me shopping as if buying the latest Louis Vuitton will fix everything between us.
We come from a wealthy Australian family, and while that has its perks, the one thing I wanted from my mum is the one thing I’ll never have; closeness. Not in the way that normal people have with their parents.
I heard Alistair’s voice getting louder and louder, and it’s then that I started to panic.
Something’s wrong.
I had to think back to the last time I heard from Mum — it was a few weeks ago. She’d texted me that she was going on a trip to Spain. I’d been angry with her because I’d spent summer break with my grandmother, and I’d prefer to never have to go there ever again. My grandma acts like I’m the one who ruined my mum’s life, and even if I did, it wasn’t like I asked to be born.
My mum, despite her family's wealth, has never been one to pick herself up and start again like people with means easily can. She’d never really found her feet. I know from the argument that she and Alistair had at Christmas — unbeknown to them I heard everything — she’s using medication again to get high.
My mother’s addiction to prescription drugs has been an issue since as long as I can remember. It’s the basis of all the arguments in our family, and I think shipping me off to boarding school —where I can’t be seen or heard — makes it better on her somehow.
That’s the only reason I keep quiet.
A few moments later, our headmistress was standing in the doorway, searching for me.
I don’t know why, but I wanted to curl up under the desk and hide. I didn’t want this news, whatever it was.
“Charlize Prescott.” My mother never got around to changing either of our names. “Please come with me.”
My heart raced in my chest as the other kids in the class all turned to look at me. I stood, leaving my text book upright on the desk, along with my school bag.
“Bring your things,” she added.
I turned back to do as she said. That’s one thing I was always good at: doing what everyone says and not making a fuss. In fact, I’d say I’m an expert.
When I finally packed up and the entire class watched me leave, I felt more nervous than I’ve ever felt before
“What’s going on?” I asked Headmistress Sinclair.
She turned to look at me and I’ll never forget that look in her eyes as long as I live. Sympathy; but I didn’t know what for. “Your father is here to collect you.”
My father?
I wanted to snort with laughter. One thing Alistair has never been to me is a father. I barely ever saw, or heard from him.
He had my number; he could’ve texted me. What could be so urgent that he shows up at my school?
My heart filled with dread.
By the time we got to the office, I was in full panic mode. Then he turned and I saw his stony face. Yes. Something was definitely wrong. Mrs. Sinclair left us alone in her office.
“Alistair?” I frowned.
He scanned my face. He seemed… angry.
