With her father's memory failing and her mother gone, Soraya Thenayu enrolls in distant Darkwood Academy and immediately becomes enemies with the richest kid at school. Between hiding her father's gift of illegally harvested magic, befriending socia...
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Jacquelle gazed out over Matumi, sliding one hand slowly down the cool glass surface of her bedroom window. The sun kissed cobblestone streets below were filled with Azakuins bustling about their day. Shopkeepers stood outside their businesses with carts full of steaming hot food fresh from their ovens, beckoning tourists to sample their stuffed pastries and buttery scones.
Even from the third floor of her mother's house, Jacquelle could smell the cinnamon and various berries baked into their flaky breads. Her mouth watered as she stared enviously at a group of children who had been handed small slivers to taste. The blond licked her cracked lips when the children eagerly shoved the portions into their mouths. Jacquelle frowned at being reminded of her parched throat and empty, aching belly.
"When is mother coming home tonight?" she wondered, glancing at the circular clock hanging above the door. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since noon.
Her private tutor, Ms. Gwendal Makos, came in the morning just before her mother left for work and looked after her until fifteen o'clock in the afternoon. She was a short, portly woman who seemed to only like silence and repetitive routines. She kept Jacquelle's weekly schedule consistent with reading books, writing, eating lunch, swimming laps in their indoor pool, and sewing. The only escape the blond had to this never ending cycle was in playing music.
The girl looked over at her pristine, lavender wooded cello. It stood proudly on a stand next to her bed, polished and poised. The more melodies she memorized, the more Ms. Demarko would take her around town to show off her skills to other adults. Jacquelle would play at fancy restaurants every weekend and use her cello case as a tip jar. Her mother eagerly emptied out the contents onto the kitchen table and hungrily counted every last cent after each show.
"You're going to make mommy rich," she would squeal in delight while pocketing the cash and coins. "Just keep practicing, my little prodigy, and we'll be set to travel the world together." The second Ms. Makos left, Jacquelle swiftly picked up her beloved instrument and practice for hours to eat away at the long afternoons, so her mother would seemingly come home sooner. However, Ms. Demarko usually entered the house well past the girl's bedtime, accompanied by strangers.
"Mom, can you play with me?" Jacquelle would ask even though she already knew what the answer was.
"Not right now," Ms. Demarko would say. "I have to entertain my friends. Stay out of our hair, or I'll lock you in your room."
Jacquelle was tired of being alone. She often felt like a princess trapped in a tall tower and wished for someone to come in and whisk her away. After her empty stomach growled in protest once more, the girl walked out into the hallway, past a closed door.
Krista...
Despite knowing she wouldn't be caught, her hand hovered timidly over the golden handle. Her twin's room was now extra storage space for whatever her mother bought on her shopping sprees. Yet, a small bit of hope of seeing Krista again still lived within her, even if it was buried under the grim reality of her father and sister moving away just a year prior.
