Chapter 10

By the time classes began the next day and Kendall had got through the first week, the rumours had spread like wildfire. There were two things she constantly heard. Rumours about herself and also the name Sabrina Sinclair. It floated through their hallways like a myth, one she could learn about but never see with her own eyes.

The rumours the students came up with to fill their lack of information on Kendall McCarthy took her mind off it, however. She kept to herself, focused on organising her studying time and kept any conversation to a minimum, hoping it would take the spotlight away from her. Sadly, her efforts bore no fruit.

Her shock at the extent to which human lies could go grew by the day with every rumour she heard.

There were many good ones, but Kendall had her favourite few. One of those was that she was the secret daughter of an elite royal family, and they had faked her death to protect her from assassins. Another was that she was an orphan who had inherited her fortune from a powerful godfather, and now she ran his entire empire. She’d also heard that she’d flown in on a private plane and had then sent the plane back empty with orders for it to be burned just because she didn’t like the smell of the leather. That one, although ridiculous, was still a bit too close to the truth.

When asked, she never confirmed or denied anything, there was no point. No matter what she said, they’d believe whatever they wanted anyway. It wasn’t like she could explain the truth; lies were far better.

Or rather, they were amusing enough that she could brush them off and continue.

That was until the rumours took a darker turn.

Going into their second week of classes, the students were becoming restless at their inability to find anything on Kendall, no matter where they searched. They created ridiculous stories to compensate for their own failure, choosing to paint her as a freak instead. Some strange alien who was more dangerous than any of them knew.

Kendall went from hearing that she’d bought a Prada store to hearing that she was the clone of her dead sister, made in a laboratory by her billionaire parents to replace her.

She’d also heard that she was from an old Italian family of billionaires and had been sacrificed to the devil as a child, which was why she’d killed a teacher at her previous school and had quickly been transferred to Hawthorne.

Apparently, her family wanted to be rid of her, and this boarding school was the only place high profile enough to keep their secrets.

Kendall realised how bad it was getting when she decided that trying to stay away from the other kids wouldn’t help her, and that making friends would be beneficial.

She’d gone to the dining hall during lunch and had carried her tray over to a table where Adelaide and a few other kids had been sitting.

Imagine her horror when, as soon as she set down her tray and sat, all the kids at the table grabbed their food and stood.

“Oh, great,” one girl spat, leaving the table.

“My dad’s killing me if I make bad connections,” a boy murmured irritably, walking away.

The other kids followed, and Adelaide sighed, rolling her eyes as she turned to follow. “Can’t believe you’re a weirdo.”

Kendall blinked in silent shock, watching as the group relocated to another table, leaving her there alone.

Instantly, shame washed through her, making her skin prickle with awareness as countless eyes glanced constantly in her direction. Each table buzzed louder, their conversations growing more erratic as they all discussed what she’d just experienced.

The feeling was familiar.

Before it had been caused by the children’s disgust at being associated with the daughter of druggies, but now it felt like history was repeating itself for other reasons. They were trying to ostracise her again?

But… she was rich now. She was beautiful. She had nearly everything they did, so why?

Kendall was trembling, trying to maintain the expression, posture and mannerisms which she secretly practised every night in her room.

She didn’t care. She’d pretend she was unaffected, that she was glad they’d left. She was a princess who didn’t want anyone at her table.

Reaching out, she stabbed her silver fork into her crispy fresh salad and brought it to her mouth, taking a bite.

Just like that, one bite at a time, she slowly ate her meal, making sure to dab the satin cloth at the corners of her lips and take elegant sips of her icy water.

When she was done, she picked up her tray and walked over to the tray counter where she left it, and turned to walk gracefully out of the dining hall.

She’d finished eating early, so the hallways were pretty empty. Kendall was grateful for that because her vision was blurring over with tears.

The hallway shifted and waved before her eyes as she tried to walk steadily to the bathroom, squeezing her eyes shut to clear her vision.

When she got to the bathroom, she silently slipped inside and hurried into an empty stall.

There, she closed the toilet, sat down and buried her face in her hands.

The utter shame. Why did she feel so embarrassed? It wasn’t like the things they believed about her were true.

She sighed, reaching for a tissue to dab at her eyes. It didn’t matter if it was true or not; if people believed it, they’d treat it like the truth. And Kendall would become a reject as a result.

Again.

Biting her lip, she tried to steady her breath as her knee bounced up and down. An old sign of her rising anxiety.

Suddenly, a wave of calm swept through her mind, erasing her stress as a thought occurred to her. Kendall straightened. So, what if they didn’t accept her into their circles?

Why did she care? She hadn’t come here to make friends. In fact, the fewer friends she made, the better. She was in now; she’d gotten a foot in the door of the wealthy world.

What she needed to do was study her butt off until she graduated so she could build a life for herself in this new world.

Huffing, she stood and smoothed her pleated skirt. She didn’t need their acceptance.

Squaring her shoulders, she stalked out of the bathroom stall.

Kendall stopped.

There was a girl by the taps, standing directly across Kendall’s stall. Like she’d been waiting.

She had her hands in her blazer pockets, her feet crossed at the ankles as she stared at Kendall with sharp, grey eyes.

She sighed and tilted her head. “You’re Kendall McCarthy?” she asked.

Her voice was crisp and sharp, laced with unmistakable interest and an air of forced boredom.

Kendall stared at her and, like a twisted trick of fate, she instantly knew who she was looking at. Nobody had to tell her.

“Yes. You’re… Sabrina Sinclair.”

The girl scoffed with a subtle smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Kendall.”