[Lily] “Liliana,” I correct him, blinking. “Did you know my mother?” He takes a step back, finally seeing me as more than a disruption to his morning. "Yes," his eyes soften. “We were both students here at the same time. I’d see her in passing sometimes. You…” he pauses, “You look exactly like her.” The quiet sound of grasshoppers and the wind rustling through the branches of the walnut tree overhead is interrupted by a loud cough. "Now that we have her status confirmed," Lazarus chimes in, "Could we please take the photo before the light shifts again and we need to do this all over again tomorrow." The whole group groans in response. Professor Devin takes a moment to look at the scene before them. “I have an idea.” Everyone is forced to get up from their seats. Madison, who came to the shoot with a full makeup case, sets to work making me look more presentable. By the time the stools have been rearranged, my hair is pulled back in a simple glossy braid, which rests on one should
[Atticus] We all went out to pizza after the photoshoot. Liliana opted out. She was already overwhelmed by the morning’s activities. So our pizza lunch ended up being a status update on the progress of our game. The waiter didn’t bat an eye when I ordered a pint of beer to steady my nerves. Even in our prep school uniforms, the townsfolk know not to question us when we ask for something. Madison, Evie, and Laz are sitting very close together looking at a screen. I don’t know what they have planned, but by the way, they keep giggling and pointing, I can already tell it is going to lead to some kind of spectacular heartbreak for Liliana. Which is the point of all this. I designed the game this way--to drag out her pain slowly over time so that by the end of the year if she makes it that long, the devastation is so complete that she finally breaks. After three years of trying, we will finally show her what it means to be a Legacy--and how she’ll never live up to the challenge. Today
[Lily] I should have never moved into a room where I share a wall with Atticus Preston. As soon as I woke up, or I should say crawled out of bed because sleep wasn’t a possibility with Atticus and Evie going at it all night, I decided it was time to rearrange my room. Maybe my bed shouldn’t be along the wall I share with him since obviously, the headboard in his room is leaning up against it as well. I also need to cover that vent with something. I don’t care about air circulation. I’d rather suffocate than listen to Evie moan all night. She also tends to telegraph everything that is happening at the moment it is happening. I didn’t need to know the ins and outs, literally, of everything that Atticus was doing to her. Unfortunately, it is nearly impossible to move solid wood furniture with only two arms and one leg. The bed was impossible to move more than a millimeter on my own, and it made a terrible scratch on the floor as I pulled. “What are you doing?” Atticus asks from just
[Lily] When the weekend was over, Nyx didn’t return from New York City. At first I thought I had just missed her. I looked for her at breakfast, but she never appeared. I went by the dorm room, but it was locked shut, all of the deadbolts still in place. I then thought maybe she was avoiding me, but she didn’t show up for any of her classes either. After chemistry, our professor came up and asked if I had heard any news about Nyx. When I asked what type of news I should be expecting to hear, she got very quiet and very still. “Don’t worry about it,” she said in parting. “I’m sure she’s doing fine.” But I am worried. Did Nyx leave the school permanently? Did it have something to do with me? I’ve texted her about a dozen times. I don’t even know if she received any of them. I’m still waiting to hear back from her. Atticus and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms either. Atticus keeps trying to talk to me, but I am not ready to speak to him yet. I’m still trying to sort out my feeling
[Atticus] Evangeline has been suspiciously quiet lately. She’s up to something, I can tell, and knowing Evie the way that I do, it is something she doesn’t want me to know about. But at least she doesn’t seem angry anymore which means she is at least thinking about her actions. Or at least one can hope. I hit the track early this morning and ran an easy three miles. The obstacle course I made for Liliana is still in the corner, a little damp with morning dew but otherwise intact. I chuckle remembering how ridiculous she looked trying to make it up and over the cones. She was in such a good mood afterward but then Evangeline had to ruin everything with the destroyed uniform. I’m starting to wonder if Evie is going out of her way to sabotage my efforts. Is our relationship even about us anymore, or is it about revenge? When I return from my run, a letter from my family is waiting for me just inside the door. It’s from my sister, Janus. Max, I hope the year is going well. I
[Lily]If you were to ask me before today if a man like Atticus Preston could cry, I would have told you it was impossible. Because crying would mean you can feel something profound enough to hurt you. To have the ability to feel so deeply means you have a heart. Atticus Preston the bully has no heart. He is all smiles and flirting and cruel manipulation. He doesn’t have the depth of emotion for true pain. But this person crying in my arms--he is not the bully, he is someone else. I’m not sure when I started singing, but as I pet his hair, a melody that my mother used to sing bubbled forth from the depths of my memory. After several minutes, Atticus’ breathing calmed, his sobs slowly ceasing. Taking a deep breath, he rises to his feet and extends his hand. “Walk with me.”"I'm not very good at walking," I look down at my leg. His smile is fragile, his eyes and cheeks red from crying. "That's okay, you can lean on me."With my arm around his shoulder, we slowly wander into the wood
[Lily]I could still feel the burn of Atticus' lips as I watched his car drive away. It wasn't a kiss, it was an assault, a fit of anger and frustration. And yet…"He is grieving," I say, trying to convince myself that it must be true. "He didn't mean it." But even as I say these words I do not believe them entirely. There was pain there, so much pain, but I can’t help but feel there was something else. He feels so much more than he lets on to others. He wants people to see him as confident, cocky, and in control. But he is still just a kid, just like me. 17 years old is so young to feel the weight of an entire family dynasty on his shoulders. He was acting in anger and grief. But that doesn’t mean everything he said or did was wrong. It just feels like lately I cannot speak to Atticus, not with the unpredictable flavor of his feelings. These days I’m not sure if I’m going to get the bitter or the sweet. Looking down at my outfit, I see the changes that Madison made--the torn hem
[Liliana] I placed the photo of my mother on the wall next to my mirror. I tried not to think too much of the mystery it presents with a teacher in the photo, but I can’t stop myself. There is more to this story than Professor Devin was letting on. He had said he had seen her around school when they were students. He never mentioned he had photographed her, nor had he ever mentioned that he worked with her in the fashion world. But I also didn’t have much of a conversation with him. Maybe it wasn’t so much that he was hiding anything but a lack of opportunity. I think today would be a good day for me to drop in on one of Madison’s classes. But that can wait until tomorrow. Today, I need rest. If I’m lucky I’ll get to sleep long enough to forget about today and everything else. “Liliana Adare,” there is a knock on the door. So much for my nap. Dean Michaels is standing outside of the door along with a man holding an electronic screwdriver and a bag that rattles with odds and ends