THE AFTERNOON LIGHT washed the academy's manicured lawn as Willow glided silently along the pathway, her senses on high alert. Her slender form blended with the other students amidst towering hedgerows and statues.
Her mission was to observe the elusive Marianne Dolloway and glean any details that could aid in a covert kill. According to schematics, the heiress resided in the west dormitory's north wing. Girls with roommates stayed in the north wing, so Willow crossed off the option of hurting Marianne in her dorm. Willow crept nearer, eyes peeled for any sign of Marianne.
There—a solitary figure, going about her day, movements leisurely yet practiced with care for observers—was the perfect target.
Willow stopped and checked her phone, subtly watching Marianne from a distance. Willow noted every minuscule detail—sleek ash hair pulled into a bun, porcelain skin unmarred by scars or markings, a slender physique garbed in her fresh uniform, befitting nobility. She stood with friends, chatting animatedly about something Willow could bet was not as exciting as Marianne seemed to be making it.
Lost in analysis, Willow startled at the merry chime of a bell tower, signaling lunch. Marianne and her friends promptly walked away, prim heels clicking purposefully down, echoing corridors toward destinations unknown.
Willow fixed her bag on her shoulder and allowed her feet to carry her to the dining hall. The smell of greasy food and disinfectant assaulted her senses as she entered the bustling cafeteria. The noise of students chatting and trays clattering filled the air.
Nadia spotted her approach and waved eagerly, her infectious energy lifting Willow's spirits. "Willow, tell Marianne she's being ridiculous!" she exclaimed, gesturing animatedly to her friend, Marianne Dolloway, who sat beside her.
Willow's eyes widened. The gods were working with her—they delivered the girl right into her hands.
She looked at Alexander, who awkwardly sat to the side. His shoulders relaxed at seeing a familiar face. "What's going on?" Willow smiled as she settled into the seat.
Marianne huffed, tossing her silky hair over her shoulder. "I am not! Willow, back me up here—pink or red for the dance?"
Willow chuckled dryly. "Not weighing in on that debate," she remarked, unpacking her lunch.
"What, are you not going?" Alexander muttered, his eyebrows raising as he looked at Willow.
"I'm not sure." Willow shrugged. "I don't feel like it. Plus, I don't have a date."
Nadia gasped, drawing curious glances from nearby students. "Really?"
"Come on, Willow," Marianne scoffed, her perfectly trimmed eyebrows arched up in suspicion. "I know half of the polo team wants to fuck you. Surely you have a date."
Marianne—always the gossip.
Willow narrowed her eyes at her. "I wouldn't know about that," she said dismissively. "I'd rather spend the night alone."
"I can keep your company," Alexander said, tearing the tension away from Willow and Marianne.
Nadia, oblivious, grabbed Willow's hands excitedly. "We can pick out the perfect dresses this weekend. It will be the best night ever!"
Taking Willow's silence for agreement, Nadia launched into an animated discussion of various dress types with Marianne. Willow let the bubbly cacophony wash over her, taking comfort in her friends' lighthearted escapade.
Willow smiled, warmed by their affection and enthusiastic plans. For a fleeting moment, Willow allowed herself to pretend she was an eighteen-year-old girl looking forward to an exciting school dance. But the illusion was shattered by the bell ringing, and lunch ended.
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Nothing Personal
Teen FictionWillow isn't the hero of this story, nor is she the villain. She is the delicate balance of light and darkness, good and bad, angel and devil. But when it comes to her, Isaac becomes her steadfast protector. She may be a dangerous weapon, but he's t...
