Vanessa has spent her life believing she was abandoned, shuffling between neglectful foster homes and haunted by strange nightmares. When her suppressed magic resurfaces, she is thrust into the mysterious world of Alfea, a school for fairies. There...
Vanessa sat quietly on the edge of her new bed, her fingers clutching the neatly folded quilt that rested on her lap. The room was small but clean, with pale blue walls and a window that let in a soft stream of sunlight. Across the room, Bloom was already unpacking, tossing her clothes onto her bed in a chaotic pile.
"Can you believe this?" Bloom said, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and disbelief. "We finally have a real home. Like... no more random roommates, no more bunk beds. It's just us now."
Vanessa didn't respond. She traced the edges of the quilt with her fingers, her gaze distant. It wasn't that she didn't feel the significance of the moment. She did. But the weight of her past clung to her like a shadow, whispering in her ear that this, too, was temporary.
"Hey." Bloom plopped down on the bed beside her, startling Vanessa out of her thoughts. "You okay?"
Vanessa forced a small smile. "Yeah. Just... adjusting."
Bloom grinned, her energy infectious. "Well, adjust fast, because this is the start of something good. I can feel it."
Vanessa nodded, though her chest tightened at the words. She wanted to believe Bloom was right, but the fear of disappointment kept her hope at bay.
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Vanessa's new adoptive parents, Diane and Greg, were kind enough on the surface. Diane was a former cheerleader who still carried an air of effortless charm, while Greg was a laid-back handyman who seemed content to let Diane take the lead. They welcomed both girls warmly, but it didn't take long for Vanessa to notice the difference in how they treated her versus Bloom.
Bloom was outgoing, charismatic, and unafraid to speak her mind. Diane loved that about her, often saying things like, "You remind me so much of myself at your age." She doted on Bloom, celebrating her successes and brushing off her mistakes as "spirited."
Vanessa, by contrast, was quieter and more reserved. She excelled in school, earning top marks and glowing recommendations from her teachers, but her achievements were met with little more than a polite, "That's nice, Vanessa." When she tried to contribute to conversations, Diane would often redirect the focus back to Bloom, who had an endless supply of stories and jokes to share.
It wasn't malicious, Vanessa told herself. It wasn't even intentional. But it hurt all the same.
Despite the favoritism, Vanessa and Bloom formed a bond, albeit a complicated one. Bloom's natural warmth made it hard to dislike her, even when she was being careless or self-absorbed. She had a way of making Vanessa laugh, of pulling her out of her shell, if only for a moment.
But their differences often led to friction. Bloom's impulsiveness clashed with Vanessa's cautious nature, and their arguments were frequent and heated.
"You're always so uptight," Bloom said one afternoon, after Vanessa had scolded her for leaving a mess in the kitchen. "Not everything has to be perfect, you know."
