The black Bugatti stopped before the elite garden's hostel. Lucas stepped out and shut the door behind him. The door closed with a thud. He leaned back against his car and lit up a cigarette. He raised it to his lips and took a drag. A small group of girls were gathered nearby, sneaking glances in his direction. It was clear they found him incredibly attractive, their eyes following his every move with a mixture of curiosity and admiration. Lucass seemed unaware of their attention, lost in his own thoughts as he took a drag on his cigarette and exhaled a large plume of smoke. His cool and aloof demeanour only added to his appeal, and the girls found themselves unable to tear their eyes away. When he was done he dropped it down and stepped on it. He ran a hand through his hair and made his way inside. On his way he popped some mint chocolate in his mouth to hide the fact that he had been smoking earlier. He knocked on her door and it opened after a minute. Pearl closed the door be
Pearl stepped out of the bed, she found a robe and wrapped herself into it. She tiptoed towards the bathroom, Lucas was still asleep. She didn't want to wake him up so she made as minimal sound as she could. She stepped into the shower, the warm water caressing her skin gently. She took some shower gel and scrubbed her body, her movements were gentle and soft. She was still a bit sore from earlier. She washed her hair, after she was done she stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. Her eyes turned wide when she found him sitting on the bed. He had a cigarette popped in his mouth. Pearl stepped forward and pulled the cigarette out. She threw it out of the window. “ You smoke? ”She raised an eyebrow at him. Lucas nodded slowly. “ Sometimes ”He answered. “ Stop that habit of yours ”She opened her wardrobe and pulled out a dress. “ Don't you wanna shower? ”She turned back to face him. He was staring at her. “ I want one ”Lucas jumped out of the bed, his muscular body c
Selina sneaked out of her room late that night. She held her heels in her hands and tiptoed towards the door. She was making her way towards the door when she heard a noise behind her. Her breathing hitched and she froze in her spot. She turned her face to look behind her. “ Mily! ”She heaved a sigh of relief. It was her cat. She knelt before her and rubbed her head. Mily leaned in her touch. She pressed her head in her hands. “ I'll be back soon, be good ”She whispered. The cat looked at her with her big eyes, obviously not understanding her words. Selina stood up and pulled out a spare key from her purse. She quickly unlocked the door and stepped out. She quietly stepped out of her house, shivering slightly as the cool night air hit her skin. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the crisp, refreshing air, and exhaled slowly, feeling a sense of freedom and excitement at being out in the middle of the night. The darkness of the night cast long shadows around her, but sh
Rosie sat up, she was panting. Her back was covered in sweat. Her nighty clenched tightly to her body, it was wet from perspiration. She whipped her forehead with the back of her hand. “ It was a dream, a dream ”She kept on reminding herself again and again. She leaned in to grab a glass of water which was placed on the table beside her bed. She took a big gulp. Rosie raised her hand to touch her neck. She ran a finger across the scar. She got out of the quilt, her feet touched the smooth carpet below them. She stood up and walked towards the window. She pulled the curtains a little bit to the side and looked down. She saw Adam. He was leaning against a wall, a cigarette between his lips, his head was lowered, he was looking down at his phone. Rosie let the curtain fall back to its place. She took a step back, another and another until the back of her knees hit the bed. She sat down. She pulled her phone out from the drawer and raised it to her ears. The call connected immedi
Selina smiled at her. The smile actually reached her eyes. “ How are you? ”Pearl was surprised, she never expected her to talk to her. She hated her right? Well that's what she believed. “ I.. Mm.. I am fine ” She smiled back. Selina started walking beside her, making small talks every now and then. “ So, how's Lucas? ”“ Umm.. He is good ”Pearl felt uneasy talking to her. She didn't understand why she would talk to her and suddenly she was reminded of the text from last night. Could it be her? She turned her eyes towards her, she was talking about something. Pearl couldn't decide if she was overthinking Or she was actually right. “ Sister ”Pearl paused and so did Selina beside her. The voice was soft and soothing and Pearl knew who it belonged to. Rosie stood before them, smiling down at them. “ Sister, good morning ”She spoke again, her eyes fixed at Selina. Pearl was shocked. Sister? She looked between Selina and Rosie. They both looked so different. “ Morning ”Selin
“ What about this? ”Daniel ran his hand around the suit he was wearing. He looked at his reflection before turning towards Anastasia. “ What do you say? ”He asked Again. Anastasia was silent. She looked at him as if he had gone insane. “ Are you out of your mind? ”Daniel pursed his lips. He ignored her and turned to the salesgirl beside him. “ I will take this ”The salesgirl smiled before disappearing with the suit. Daniel walked towards Anastasia and pulled her up on her feet. “ Come on, let's go ”They walked to his car in silence. Anastasia pressed her lips together. “ Why are you doing this Dan? ”She spoke once they had settled in his car. She couldn't take it anymore, she needed an answer. Daniel sighed. He placed the paper bag on the backseat and started the car. “ I don't understand why you are doing this ? ”“ You don't understand what? ”He finally spoke. “ What is it that you are not understanding? ”“ Why are you trying to marry her? ”“ Trying? I am marrying h
Lucas leaned back in his seat. His eyes were closed and his hair was messy by running his finger through it. He felt a hand on his head. His eyes flew open immediately. They were bloodshot. “ Mom ”His voice broke. It was hoarse. He closed his eyes again and a tear rolled down his cheek. There were several empty bottles of liquor and cigarette butts scattered on the floor around his feet, evidence of the long day he had spent sitting there, alone with his thoughts and demons. He took a deep breath, the acrid smell of cigarettes and alcohol filling his nostrils, and let out a heavy sigh. Pearl woke up with a headache. Her head was hurting, she didn't even remember how and when she fell asleep. She looked outside and noticed that the sky had turned completely dark, she had no idea how long she slept. She stood up and made her way towards the mirror. Red, teary eyes stared back at her. She checked her phone, no response. She felt a tight feeling in her chest and tried to hold back he
She was shoved into the passenger seat of the car, her body limp and unresponsive. She was knocked out completely, the effects of the chloroform still lingering in her system. The car sped down the road, its headlights cutting through the darkness of the night. The streetlights created pools of light on the asphalt, which passed by in a blur as the car zoomed past. She was slumped in the passenger seat, her head lolling against the window as the car bumped over the rough road. Gabriel kept his eyes fixed on the road but kept on glancing back at her. He was advised to make sure she was alright and not hurt anywhere. He drove quickly towards their destination. Finally they reached their destination and the car arrived at a large and imposing mansion, its huge gates guarded by armed security guards. The gate opened slowly, and the car drove up the long and winding driveway, its headlights sweeping across the meticulously manicured lawns and gardens surrounding the mansion. Gabriel
It had been a week. Seven days of pretending to be Pearl. Of swallowing down the truth like a secret that might rot me from the inside out. No one noticed. Not really. They still called me by the name that wasn’t mine. Still treated me like the girl who arrived at the academy dazed and forgetful. Still saw the version of me they expected to see. But I saw it. In the mirror. In the way I stood. The way my voice had softened, lilting into the same cadence Rosie used to have when she whispered to the stars from her bedroom window. I saw it in the way my fingers reached up—absent, automatic—to tuck my hair behind my ear whenever I was nervous. Just like she used to do. Just like I used to do. Rosie was slipping out of me like light through cracked glass, and I didn’t know how to stop it. And Lucas… he noticed something. I could feel it. He didn’t say anything. But I’d catch him staring sometimes, brow creased in that quiet, careful way of his—like he was trying to
And I screamed and screamed as loud as I can to stop the voices in my head, to hush them from consuming me entirely. The room was pitch-black, but I could still see the flames. Still hear the screech of tires, the shattering glass, the last words my mother ever said to me—Rosie, close your eyes. And I had. For years. But now they were open. Wide open. And everything hurt. The door slammed open. I barely had time to breathe before he was there—Lucas, heart in his throat, panic in his eyes. “Pearl!” He was at my side, hands cupping my face like I might vanish. “What happened? Are you okay?” I couldn’t speak. Not right away. Because looking at him felt like bleeding. He was older now. Broader. More haunted. But he still had the same eyes—the ones that used to look at me like I was his world. Not Pearl. Rosie. And that was the part that shattered me most. He was holding me like I was someone else. Like I was a girl with a different name, a different story. But I
The candlelight is low. Flickering. Dying. I walk barefoot down a hallway lined with mirrors—dozens of them, tall and arched, gilded in gold that’s flaking away. The floor is marble, but my footsteps don’t echo. It’s like the air itself is swallowing the sound. Heavy. Watching. My dress clings to me, unfamiliar. Pale gold, stitched with roses. I don’t remember putting it on. Everything smells like rosewater and smoke. I pause beside a mirror. My reflection stares back, but there’s something off. I lean closer. The tilt of my head, the shape of my mouth, the line of my shoulders—it’s all right, and yet… wrong. Like I’ve seen this face on someone else. It’s me. Of course it’s me. But my stomach tightens. I force myself to look away. That’s when I see him. Daniel, standing at the far end of the corridor, dressed in black, shadows curled around his shoulders like a cloak. He holds a bouquet of roses—blackened, wilting, soaked in something that drips down his wrist.
I press the phone to my ear and glance at the stars. The rooftop is cold beneath me, slates hard against my back. The wind carries that soft chill that always makes me feel like something’s about to shift.My mom’s voice comes through the speaker, warm and clipped with concern.“You sound tired, sweetie. Are they overworking you again?”I let out a breath—half a laugh, half exhaustion.“No, it’s fine. Just a lot of assignments.”A pause.“And late-night walks,” I almost add. “And watching someone unravel.” But I don’t.She hums thoughtfully. I can hear her stirring something, probably tea. Home always sounds like comfort.“Have you made any new friends yet? You never talk about anyone there.”I hesitate, then lie.“Yeah. A few.”She doesn’t press. She never does. Maybe she thinks I’m just quiet. Or maybe she’s learned not to dig when I’m like this—floating somewhere far away from where my body is.“Your father says hi,” she says. I can hear him grumbling in the background, something a
I’ve always hated mirrors.They show too much. Too honestly.But now—Now, I can't stop staring.The girl in the glass tilts her head. She’s beautiful in that haunting, aristocratic way. Rosie Miller’s beauty was always cold, like marble warmed by candlelight.And now… it’s mine. Mother did everything so that I look like her. The cheekbones took two surgeries. The lips were easy—subtle filler and muscle memory. I even learned how she blinked. Slowly. Like she knew the world would wait for her.I lean in, brushing a lock of black hair behind my ear, her signature habit. I trace the light scar at my neck. A perfect replica from her dead body.Rosie was always the star. The one with the spotlight in her eyes. The chosen daughter. The heir. The girl people died for.But she’s dead now.And I’m not.I trace the curve of my jaw with one finger, still bruised faintly under the skin where the bone was shaved. Months of healing. Years of training. Voice lessons. Diary entries memorized. Even
The wind clawed at the windows like it was trying to warn me. I stood at the edge balcony leaning against the railing. Below, the ocean was bathed in silver moonlight, still and too perfect. A lie, like everything else lately. The moon hung low tonight, pale and sharp-edged. Pearl would say it looked like a blade. My phone buzzed once on the table. The number flashed. Cale. I snatched it up. “Report.” “Sir,” he said, voice crisp, but edged with something else. Hesitation. “ I have the report .” The cold that slid through me wasn’t a surprise—it was confirmation. I said nothing. Just waited. “She’s not Rosie,” he continued. “… she’s not the one who died in that accident.” I closed my eyes. My chest didn’t rise. I was stone now. “I had to dig deep, sir. Most of the records were burned or erased, but a few medical files survived in private storage. Enough to run a sequence. And... it matched someone else.” “Who?” My voice came out hoarse, like it hadn’t been used in days. “He
Apollo whined softly as I knelt beside him, his blue eyes watching me with quiet protest. His paw pressed against the doorframe like he understood what it meant—that he couldn’t follow me past this point. “I know,” I whispered, running a hand gently down the sleek curve of his back. “I don’t like it either. " He nuzzled my wrist, and I swallowed hard. “I’ll be back after classes, then we'll go back home, alright? You’ll be safe here.” My voice sounded too sure. Like I was convincing myself more than him. He tilted his head, ears flicking at some distant sound, but stayed close—refusing to move from the doorway. “I have to go,” I said, brushing my thumb just under his chin, where the fur was softer. “You know the rules. No panther cubs allowed in Elite Garden’s holy halls.” my phone ringed again, I looked down it was Lucas calling me. " yes, I am coming. ” That almost earned a huff from him. Almost. I smiled down at him. " it's your dad, the classes are going to start
The engine purred beneath my hand, smooth and obedient like always. The car was built for silence and speed—one of my father’s more useful indulgences. Black exterior, sleek leather interior, the kind of vehicle that announced your presence before you ever stepped out of it. Pearl sat beside me, legs crossed at the ankle, eyes on the window. The early morning light painted the world gold, but she didn’t seem to notice it. She hadn’t said much all morning. I kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gearshift, close enough to brush against her thigh if I reached. I didn’t. Music played softly in the background, something mellow she usually liked. She didn’t hum along like she used to. I stole a glance at her. Eyes open, but distant. Her fingers were curled in her lap, nails tracing the lines of her skirt like she was trying to count something she couldn’t name. She looked tired—not the kind of tired that sleep fixed. The kind that lived in the bones. “You okay?” I
The next morning, I move like nothing happened. I pour coffee, feed Apollo, fold a blanket left on the couch. Lucas is in the shower, and I can hear the water running upstairs like white noise. Safe. Familiar. Grounding. But every now and then—just in the gaps between movements—I feel it again. The weight. Not heavy enough to drag me down, but just enough to notice. Like walking through air that's a little too still. Like forgetting what you were doing mid-sentence. Like something watching from the corners, but only when you don’t look directly. I tell myself I’m fine. And mostly, I am. But the dream clings. Not in vivid images—those faded as soon as I woke—but in texture. In the way I flinch when the kettle whistles. In the way I glance at the kitchen doorway without meaning to. In the way Apollo follows me from room to room, tail low, eyes tracking the corners of the ceiling as if he remembers too. I don’t tell Lucas. I make him breakfast. I brush my fingers throug