Chapter 6

　　My first day at St. Aurelia Academy should have been easy.

　　New girl arrives. New girl keeps her head down. New girl survives until graduation and becomes a doctor far away from everyone’s drama.

　　That was the plan.

　　The plan lasted until lunch.

　　The cafeteria was divided like every school cafeteria in history. Popular students at one side, nerds at another, loud people in the middle pretending they were normal, and me at a table where no one sat because apparently silence was contagious.

　　I did not mind.

　　I had an apple, a book, and no interest in becoming anyone’s entertainment.

　　Then the speakers crackled.

　　“Miss Eleanor Vale, please report to the principal’s office. Miss Eleanor Vale...”

　　Another voice cut in. Female. Annoyed.

　　“Do you ever get tired of repeating yourself, old man?”

　　The cafeteria went quiet.

　　“I only said it once,” the principal complained through the speakers.

　　“Move your finger off the button, sweetheart.”

　　Then came a loud kiss.

　　A very loud kiss.

　　Someone choked on their drink.

　　The entire cafeteria exploded into laughter.

　　I stood slowly, holding my apple, and accepted that this school was already cursed.

　　The walk to the principal’s office felt longer than it should have. Everyone watched me. I hated being watched.

　　At the secretary’s desk, a kind woman pointed me toward the inner office. I knocked once, stepped inside, and stopped.

　　The principal sat behind his desk, looking nervous.

　　A man sat across from him with his back to me.

　　I knew who it was before he stood.

　　My body knew first.

　　Damian Ashford turned around in a dark suit, perfectly calm, perfectly controlled, and completely out of place in a school office.

　　My stomach dropped.

　　“Good afternoon, Miss Vale,” the principal said. “This is Mr. Damian Ashford.”

　　“We have met,” Damian said.

　　His eyes moved over me, and suddenly the memory of his bare chest flashed across my mind.

　　I hated my brain.

　　I held out my hand because I refused to look intimidated.

　　He took it.

　　The current hit again.

　　This time, his jaw tightened.

　　“Mr. Ashford,” I said politely, pulling away. “What a surprise.”

　　“Is it?”

　　“No. Unfortunately, I am beginning to suspect you appear wherever my peace goes to die.”

　　The principal coughed.

　　Damian’s mouth almost smiled.

　　I sat before anyone could comment.

　　The principal explained why I had been called. My grades from Cornwall had transferred. I was top of the honor roll. St. Aurelia wanted me to represent the academy in a competition hosted by Ashford Holdings.

　　Of course they did.

　　Damian took over the explanation. “The contest rewards exceptional students. Third place receives an all-expenses-paid trip through Europe. Second place receives a scholarship to study wherever they choose. First place may ask for anything within reason.”

　　Anything.

　　The word should have tempted me.

　　It did not.

　　“I will participate under one condition,” I said.

　　The principal blinked. “A condition?”

　　Damian leaned back. “Name it.”

　　“If I win, you take me to a hospital. I want to observe the internal structure, the departments, the operating areas if possible, and the morgue.”

　　Both men stared at me.

　　“That is what you want?” Damian asked.

　　“Yes.”

　　“You could ask for money.”

　　“I do not want your money.”

　　“A car.”

　　“I do not drive.”

　　“A house.”

　　“I already live in one I do not understand.”

　　The principal looked like he wanted to disappear.

　　Damian’s expression sharpened. “Why a hospital?”

　　“Because I want to become a doctor. Because bodies tell the truth after people stop lying. Because some girls dream of weddings and I dream of understanding how people survive damage.”

　　His gaze darkened.

　　For one second, something passed between us. Recognition. Pain. Warning.

　　Then it was gone.

　　“Accepted,” he said.

　　He extended his hand.

　　I took it.

　　The current flared hotter this time, almost like a pulse.

　　I tried to pull away.

　　He held on a second longer.

　　“Tomorrow at nine,” the principal said quickly. “Mr. Ashford will escort you to the company. You will stay near the headquarters during the competition.”

　　“Stay?” I repeated.

　　“Several days,” Damian said.

　　“No one mentioned that.”

　　“I am mentioning it now.”

　　I stared at him.

　　He stared back.

　　And I realized the competition was not an opportunity.

　　It was a trap with my name written beautifully across the entrance.