Legacy of secrets

1

The gates of Saint Laurent Academy loomed ahead like sentinels, tall and wrought iron, a cold reminder of the world I'd been born into. The academy was everything I expected—grand, imposing, and more than a little intimidating. This wasn't a place for ordinary people. It was a place for those of us with expectations, legacies, and futures we didn't choose.

The car came to a smooth stop, and I stepped out, smoothing down my coat. The wind tugged at my blonde hair, and I felt a slight chill, though whether it came from the cool autumn air or the sight of Saint Laurent, I couldn't tell. The buildings were covered in ivy, their tall, dark windows seeming to watch me as I made my way forward. My father had spoken little when he sent me here, but his meaning had been clear: This is where you'll learn your place.

I was far from thrilled. I had no desire to fit into the mold of some perfect heiress, but at Saint Laurent, I didn't seem to have a choice.

"Blair Kensington?" A voice cut through my thoughts.

I turned to see a boy approaching. He was tall, with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed to analyze everything around him with clinical precision. His expression was distant, as if he couldn't care less about being here—or about me, for that matter.

"Ethan Hale," he introduced himself, offering a brief nod. "Looks like we've been paired for the welcome challenge."

I raised an eyebrow. "Challenge?"

"It's some kind of scavenger hunt," Ethan said, his tone clipped and to the point. "A team-building exercise to help us 'connect.' Not really my thing, but we're stuck with it."

I sighed. Not exactly the most inviting start. Still, I wasn't about to back down or show any kind of weakness. "Let's get it over with, then."

We fell into step as Ethan led the way into the main building. The hallways were as grand as I expected—tall ceilings, polished floors, portraits of former students who looked like they belonged in history books. The place felt cold and detached, like everything else in my life.

"So, you're from the Kensington family," Ethan said, breaking the silence, though his tone lacked any real curiosity.

I shrugged. "That's what they tell me."

Ethan smirked, though it was barely noticeable. "Same story for most of us here. Family legacies, fortunes we didn't earn, expectations we didn't choose."

I glanced at him, surprised by the edge in his voice. He wasn't as indifferent as he seemed.

As we turned a corner, I noticed a few other students gathering in the courtyard ahead, waiting for the start of the challenge. My attention drifted momentarily, and that's when I almost walked straight into someone.

I looked up quickly, an apology on my lips, but the words caught in my throat. The boy I had nearly collided with was dark-haired, his smile easy and disarming. He was... well, pretty. That was the first word that came to mind, though something about him felt more complicated than the grin he wore. His brown eyes lingered on me for a moment longer than necessary, as if he knew I was sizing him up.

But before I could say anything, he gave a casual nod and walked away, his attention elsewhere, leaving me standing there for a second longer than I should have.

Ethan glanced back, noticing the brief moment. "That's my brother," he said, his tone flat. "Liam."

I nodded, not really sure what to make of the interaction. Liam was clearly different from Ethan—more relaxed, almost too casual. But something told me there was more beneath the surface. There usually was, with people like us.

"Come on," Ethan said, breaking the tension as he motioned toward the waiting group. "Let's get started."

I followed him, pushing the moment with Liam out of my mind for now. I had more pressing concerns—like surviving whatever Saint Laurent had in store for me.