Lyrakis

9

Holtsfield Academy feels like a distant memory now, even though you graduated only six months ago; your friends from there have drifted out of touch. In comparison to what you’ve heard about Westhaven, Holtsfield was far more rigid. Of course, at Westhaven, one must maintain proper decorum, but there were days at Holtsfield when you had to sit in silent contemplation for hours, and that was before any punishments were considered.

Hopefully, you’ll find more freedom at Westhaven College; at least you’ll be away from the watchful eyes of your parents.

Freddie appears to realize homesickness for the first time. "I went to—um, Fairview Secondary," they say, hesitating.

A moment of silence follows. You've never heard of the place; you know Fairview, though. It’s a less affluent area of Fenburg, the capital of Westerlin. There likely aren’t any boarding schools there—probably no private schools at all.

"Oh!" Martinez exclaims, a bit too cheerfully. "So you’re a scholarship student?"

Freddie’s expression darkens, and they fold their arms defensively. "Well, yeah," they retort, "but I got in on merit."

The implication hangs in the air, unlike you, and Martinez bristles at the tone. "Excuse me," he begins, sensing an argument brewing. You realize you need to step in before it escalates further.