ST. KATHERINE'S ACADEMY | CHAELISA STORY

I

Lisa's POV

The car tires crunch to a halt on the graveled driveway, stopping before a beautifully arched black and gold gate from the Victorian era. I saw several with similar designs on my tour around London; one was given to me by the very butler who drives the car now.

The gate swings open slowly and we edge forward. The driveway is long and wide and leads up to a cathedral or nunnery... if I am not mistaken.

Frederic, the butler, informed me that two hundred years ago the nuns used to live here before it was transformed into a boarding school that now houses and teaches over eight hundred girls from year seven to twelve.

St. Katherine's is one of the most famous, expensive, highest achieving, and hardest to get into schools in the country. However, because of my godfather's well-known name and wealth, an exception was made. The school would love to be able to say that Antoine Arnault's goddaughter attended the school even if it's for my last year. It did help that I'm a straight-A student, hardly ever dipping below 90%. I have my mother to thank for that.

As we drive slowly up towards the school, I marvel at how truly massive it is, and how beautiful. On either side of the driveway, perfectly cut grass extends a beautiful lawn on either side. Rose gardens can be seen about fifty meters away on the left side, and two gardeners straighten and turn to look at us before waving. On the right, hedges stand tall, and I wonder what's behind them. Probably an orchid or something.

By the time I look forward again, we've reached the front of the building and Frederic pulls into a parking bay. I see that two women have arrived and are standing in front of what I assume is the entrance, where two massive wooden doors are open.

One of the women is elderly, her hair grey and white, but neatly pulled back into an elegant bun. Everything about her screams posh and neat and well-spoken. She wears a black dress along with a black shawl, and something tells me she's the principal. The woman next to her is younger, probably in her forties, with long black hair. She's wearing a suit, and everything about her tells me she's probably the school's counselor or psychologist. I'll probably be forced to see her quite often.

"The woman wearing the dress is the Principal, Mrs. Myerscough," Frederic says to me over his shoulder, confirming my theory.

He gets out of the car and makes his way to the trunk. I get out of the car as well, however, I carefully and cautiously make my way over to the two women.

"Good afternoon." I greet them respectfully.

"Hello Miss Lisa, my name is Mrs. Myerscough, I'll be your principal." she greets me, her eyes boring into me as if she was trying to read my thoughts and dig into my soul, her voice heavy with pretentiousness and dripping with that wealthy British accent. However, she does smile. I can see that she aged well, and her eyes hold wisdom and attentiveness.

"Hello Lisa," the other woman says smiling kindly, stepping forward and extending a hand, which I shake, "my name is Mrs. Jensen, I'm the school's psychologist."

Frederic walks up next to me, a suitcase in each hand and my shoulder bag over his shoulder.

"Where should I put these, Ma'am?" He asks Principal Myerscough.

"You can leave them right here, I'll have two girls bring them up to your room." she says dismissively, and

Frederic sets them down and hands me my shoulder bag. Just on cue, two young girls wearing the school uniform come through the front doors. They look young, probably 8th grade. They each take a suitcase and take them inside.