"𝕾𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖑"

XII

Morana point of view:

Four days. Four long, chaotic days since school started. And in that time, I'd learned a lot. Not necessarily about the subjects I was being taught, but about the school itself and the characters roaming its halls.

First, let's talk about the classes.

History? Loved it. Professor Santori was all about discussions and debates, which was my kind of vibe. Literature? Even better. The teacher, Ms. Alberti, clearly had a passion for words and stories, and I respected that. Science? Neutral. It was fine as long as I didn't have to blow anything up.

But math? Math was the bane of my existence.

Every year, without fail, I somehow managed to get stuck with the worst math teachers, and this year was no different. Mr. Esposito was a tall, sour-faced man with the personality of a calculator and the patience of a firecracker. He treated me like I was personally responsible for every failed math test in history, even though I solved every equation he threw at me.

"Morana," he'd said just that morning, narrowing his eyes at me. "Do you think you're better than the rest of the class because you're quick with numbers?"

"No, sir," I'd replied, feigning innocence. "I just think I'm better than this equation."

He hadn't appreciated that. But to be fair, I hadn't appreciated him either.

The one bright spot in my week had been music class. I hadn't planned on participating in the upcoming musical showcase, but the teacher, Mrs. Lotti, had overheard me humming during class and practically begged me to join.

"You have a gift, Morana," she'd said, her eyes lighting up.

I didn't say anything at first. I wasn't the kind of person who liked standing in the spotlight, but something about the way she'd said it—like she actually meant it—had given me a flicker of courage. So, I'd signed up. Not that I'd told anyone yet.

~~~~~~~

Now, it was midnight. Everyone in the orphanage was asleep, the halls dark and silent except for the occasional creak of old floorboards. I was tiptoeing toward the kitchen, my socks barely making a sound against the floor.

The orphanage staff here was stricter than St. Claire's. Back home, I could charm my way into just about anything—extra time in the common room, access to the kitchen, even an occasional movie night. But here? Rules were rules, and the kitchen was strictly off-limits to anyone who wasn't staff.

That didn't matter to me. "Off-limits" wasn't in my vocabulary.

I pushed open the kitchen door slowly, holding my breath as the hinges let out a faint groan. The kitchen was dimly lit by the soft glow of a nightlight plugged into the wall. Stainless steel counters gleamed faintly in the darkness, and the faint scent of herbs and soap lingered in the air.

I rummaged through the cabinets, careful not to make too much noise, and gathered the essentials: flour, sugar, cocoa powder, eggs, and milk. My target? A mug chocolate cake.

I'd always loved baking. There was something soothing about it—the precise measurements, the way simple ingredients could transform into something delicious. And chocolate? Chocolate was my one true love.

I worked quickly, cracking an egg into a mug and whisking it with sugar and milk. The cocoa powder came next, followed by a generous scoop of flour. A pinch of salt, a splash of vanilla, and then I stirred it all together until the batter was smooth and glossy.

The microwave hummed softly as I placed the mug inside, my heart beating just a little faster than usual. I wasn't supposed to be here, and if I got caught, I'd probably get another lecture about rules and responsibility.

As I waited for the cake to cook, my thoughts drifted back to school.

The kids there were a mixed bag. My friends—Clara, Sofia, and Marco—were great, but they'd been quick to warn me about certain people.

"The Lombardis," Clara had said in a low voice during lunch on my second day. "They're not here right now, but when they are, you'll know."

"Why?" I'd asked, raising an eyebrow.

"They're... well, they're kind of like royalty around here," Marco had explained. "Their family is loaded—like, ridiculously rich—and they've got connections everywhere."

"And by connections, he means mafia," Sofia added, leaning in conspiratorially.

Apparently, the Lombardis were the stuff of legend. They weren't just rich—they were powerful. The kind of people who could ruin your life with a single phone call. Rumor had it that their eldest brother,Raphael, was already engaged to a Russian heiress, which explained why the family was currently in Moscow.

"They come and go," Clara had said. "But when they're here, it's like they own the school."

"Do they?" I'd asked, smirking.

"Basically," Sofia replied. "Their aunt is married to a French billionaire, and his kids attend sometimes, too. It's a whole... thing."

I didn't understand why they bothered attending Liceo Sant'Agata if they were so filthy rich, but honestly? I didn't care. The less I had to deal with them, the better. I had my own problems to worry about—like surviving math class and avoiding Gemma's death glares.

The microwave beeped, snapping me out of my thoughts. I pulled the mug out carefully, the rich aroma of chocolate filling the air. The cake was perfect—warm, gooey, and just the right amount of sweet.

I sat on the counter, savoring each bite as the quiet of the night settled around me. For a moment, it felt like everything was okay. No rules, no pressure, just me and my midnight chocolate cake.

Lola appeared suddenly, her soft paws padding against the tile as she jumped onto the counter beside me. She sniffed the air, her amber eyes narrowing in judgment.

"You can't have this," I told her, holding the mug out of reach. "It's chocolate. Poisonous for cats, remember?"

She meowed softly, flicking her tail as if to say, Your rules don't apply to me.

I smiled, scratching behind her ears. "You're lucky you're cute."

The night stretched on, and I stayed in the kitchen a little longer, letting the quiet wrap around me like a blanket. Tomorrow would bring more chaos, more challenges, and probably another run-in with Mr. Esposito. But for now, I had chocolate, Lola, and a stolen moment of peace.

And that was enough.

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Hope you enjoy this chapter. Please don't forget to vote and comment.
Sending love,
-M