I shoved myself upright, slipping again and landing against a real wall this time. With a determined growl, I took off again—in the right direction toward my home.
Home, I scoffed. What is that anyway?
“Hey!” the male called out behind me.
I ignored him.
This was the night from hell, and I just wanted it to end. My entire body was frozen, shivering, and probably dying from the wintry mix.
Wouldn’t that be a grand finale to it all?
I wiped at the icy streaks against my cheeks, pushing myself onward. It wasn’t until I reached the back entrance to my house that I realized why I was so cold.
I’d lost my slippers.
My mother’s slippers.
I collapsed into a heap on the stoop, done with it all, and finally allowed myself to truly cry.
My fairy-tale evening had turned into a happily never after.
Because there was no such thing as love or joy in my world. Only harsh realities and cruel games.
And I was done being the butt of everyone else’s jokes.
Chapter One
Ella
Senior Year
School uniforms were the bane of my existence. What I wouldn’t give for a damn hoodie to hide under.
Today’s gossip surrounded some new kid. A transfer who had to shack up with his rich uncle for unknown reasons. Of course, the student population at Darlington Academy had several theories to discuss.
“I heard he was kicked out of his last school for lighting a teacher on fire.”
“Meghan told me it was because his dad is in jail for embezzling money. So now he’s, like, in hiding or something, with some super-pissed-off people after him.”
“Pretty sure it’s not that. I mean, did you see his car? Can’t buy that limited edition without funds, Cas.”
“Tommy said he’s the son of some mafia boss.”
“Hmm, Tommy would know.”
“Right?”
I rolled my eyes, pushing through the masses to get to my English class. These idiots seriously had too much time on their hands. It wasn’t even first period, and they already had a hoard of backstories crafted for the new guy. Poor fool. He had no idea what kind of hellhole he’d just entered.
Eight more months, I told myself. Then you’re free.
Technically, I was already eighteen and could leave now—something my stepmother enjoyed reminding me of every time she told me to earn my keep.
Alas, I required a degree to access my inheritance.
A stipulation my mother had put in the will.
And I couldn’t exactly enroll myself in a public school without an address to call home.