Chapter 20
Elara
Back in my room, I sat down at my desk and opened my laptop again. Pulled up the essay I had started. Read through what I had written.
I kept typing. Adding more details. More substance. Shaping the narrative into something that felt true and strong and mine.
Outside my window, the sun finished setting. The sky turned from blue to deep purple to black. The lights in the main house went on. I could see them glowing through the trees. Warm. Inviting. A home I would never really be part of.
But that was fine. I did not need their home. I just needed to build my own.
At eleven thirty, I finally stopped typing. Saved the document. Backed it up to three different locations.
Then I got ready for bed. Brushed my teeth. Changed into pajamas. Set my alarm for five thirty in the morning.
I needed to start getting up earlier. To have time to review for the SAT before school. To maximize every available hour.
I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. In and out. Slow and steady.
Sleep came eventually. Restless and full of dreams I would not remember in the morning.
The alarm went off at five thirty. I hit the button and dragged myself out of bed. My body felt heavy. Reluctant. But I forced myself into the bathroom. Splashed cold water on my face. Got dressed in my uniform.
I was at my desk with coffee and my SAT prep book. I worked through practice problems until seven. Then went downstairs to grab a piece of toast from the kitchen before James arrived to take me to school.
The kitchen staff barely acknowledged me. No one asked if I wanted a real breakfast. No one offered to pack me lunch. Just quick glances and then back to their work preparing the family's elaborate morning meal.
I took my toast and left. Walked out to the driveway where James was already waiting by the Mercedes. He did not get out to open my door.
I climbed into the back seat. He pulled away from the house without a word.
The drive to St. Valerius took thirty minutes. I spent the time reviewing my notes from yesterday's classes. Trying to focus on normal things. School things. The test next week in calculus. The paper due Friday in English literature.
Normal teenage concerns that felt absurd given everything else.
The black Mercedes pulled up to St. Valerius Academy's iron gates at eight fifteen in the morning.
James barely glanced at me in the rearview mirror. His tone was perfunctory. Distant. "Miss Vance, I am picking up Miss Kennedy's remaining luggage from Boston this afternoon. I can only drop you at the front gates today."
"That is fine, James."
I gathered my books and portfolio. My phone had been buzzing since seven in the morning. Instagram notifications. Twitter mentions. Text messages from numbers I did not recognize.
I made the mistake of glancing at the screen once.
@VictoriaVane: "Some people really think they can climb by playing dirty. Pathetic. #golddigger #desperate"
The attached image was a grainy screenshot from hotel hallway security footage. Blurry but recognizable. Me, outside Julian's suite at almost midnight.
The comments section was already overflowing:
"OMG is that Elara Vance?"
"I heard she tried to seduce Julian Vane in Boston"
"Total homewrecker"
"Why is she even allowed at St. Valerius?"
"Rich people's charity cases always pull this shit"
"I turned my phone off completely. Slid it into my bag and zipped the compartment shut."
The car stopped. I got out without saying anything to James. Did not bother with goodbye or thank you. He would not have cared either way.
St. Valerius loomed ahead. All stone facades and stained glass windows and architecture designed to intimidate. Founded 1889. Endowed by robber barons who wanted to ensure their descendants would always have somewhere that reinforced their superiority. Attended exclusively by those same descendants.
I climbed the front steps slowly. Like I had every right to be there.
Every face I passed turned to look at me. Every conversation stopped mid-sentence.
The whispers started before I even reached the front doors.
I was already in my seat when Victoria arrived. She never came to class on time. Always made an entrance. Today she had her usual entourage with her. Brittany Thornton. Madison Chase. Charlotte DeWitt. All of them in carefully curated outfits that were supposed to look casual but actually represented hours of planning and thousands of dollars in designer clothes.
Victoria's shoes clicked across the floor, making sure everyone knew she was here.
She walked directly to my desk.
"Elara." Her voice was sweet. Poisonously sweet. "How about your trip to Boston with my brother last weekend?"
Twenty-three students stopped pretending to study. Twenty-three pairs of eyes turned to watch.
I looked up. Met her gaze. "Mr. Vane Senior requested I accompany the family. Good."
"How interesting." Victoria leaned against my desk. Arms crossed. Voice rising to make sure everyone could hear. "Because I was not invited to that event. Tristan was not invited. But you somehow managed to get yourself included. A girl who is not even real family."
"The arrangements were made by—"
"You know what I think?" Victoria's voice got louder. Sharper. Playing to the audience. "I think you begged to go. Threw yourself at my brother. And when that did not work, you followed him to Boston anyway like some desperate stalker."
"Victoria." I stood up. Gathered my books carefully. "I don't want to argue with you about these meaningless things."
I looked past her, slowly and deliberately sitting back down in my seat.
"Did everyone hear that?" Victoria spun to face the class. Her voice rose to a near-shout. "This girl—this charity case my family took in out of the goodness of our hearts—spent the entire weekend attached to my brother like a leech!"
Murmurs spread through the room. Phones emerged from pockets and bags. Fingers started flying over screens. Recording. Photographing. Documenting.
"She is trying to trap him!" Victoria's voice hit that perfect pitch of righteous outrage. "Get pregnant or take blackmail photos or whatever scheme she has planned this time."
"That is not—"
"And it will not work! Because Julian and Sloane Kennedy are going to ENGAGE!"
The room exploded into chaos.
"Wait, what?"
"THE Kennedys?"
"When did this happen?"
My fingers tightened around my books. The edges of the textbook dug into my palms hard enough to hurt. Engage. The word reverberated through my skull. Bounced around inside my head until I could not think of anything else.
Victoria stepped closer. Close enough that I could smell her perfume. Expensive. Cloying. "Stop with your pathetic schemes, Elara! Stop trying to seduce my brother! Stop pretending you have any place in our world!"
Her voice dropped slightly. Just loud enough for me and the students nearest to us to hear. "You are nothing. The daughter of a dead chauffeur. A charity case we took in because my grandfather felt guilty. That is all you have ever been."
She raised her voice again. Making sure everyone could hear the next part. "Everyone knows it. Everyone has always known it. You do not belong here. You do not belong at St. Valerius. You definitely do not belong anywhere near my family. You are not one of us. You never will be."
The classroom had gone completely silent. At least six phones were pointed at us. Recording every word. Every expression. This would be on Instagram before lunch. On Twitter by afternoon. Dissected and analyzed and shared until everyone in our social circle had seen it and formed an opinion.
I met Victoria's eyes. Her face was flushed. Triumphant. Waiting for me to cry or yell or do something that would give her the satisfaction of knowing she had gotten to me.
"Are you finished?" I asked.
She blinked. The triumph flickered. This was not the reaction she expected.
"Because class starts in two minutes. And I would like to sit down and prepare."
I walked past her. Slow. Deliberate. Sat down at my desk in the back row. Opened my notebook to a clean page. Picked up my pen.
The whispers grew louder. Spreading through the room.
"Did she just—"
"She is not even denying it—"
"Totally psycho"
"Homewrecker"
"She should be expelled for this"