Suncadia

Chapter 1

Bianca "Bia" Whittaker stepped carefully out of the backseat of her family's white sedan, wincing as her thin Converse were immediately chilled with snow. She gazed around, turquoise eyes bright with curiosity at the sight.

"Whaddaya think, Bug?" said her dad, Marcus Whittaker.

Bia thought for a moment. "Charming," she forced a smile. Her introverted self was not at all interested in a resort that was seemingly filled with people.

Snow coated the grounds outside the lodge, and it must've been at least a foot deep. A valet met them in front of the tall pine pillars that marked the entrance, grabbing Mr. Whittaker's car keys and helping Mrs. Whittaker from her place in the front seat. Bia rolled her eyes. Her parents were such snobs.

For Christmas, Bia's family had insisted in giving her a "rustic" and "simple" experience during the holidays. The lodge itself looked rural enough, built from rich orange logs stacked upon each other, but with the fancy rented sedan and the valet and the dozens of lodge staff waiting for them at the front doors, Bia guessed this was going to be anything but unique to her.

Suddenly, a large bright light flashed in Bia's vision. She immediately shielded her eyes with her arm, hissing. "What the hell?"

"Bug?" Mr. Whittaker to her side. "What's the matter?"

"You mean you didn't see the freaking gigantic flash of light that just now exploded?" she blinked, slowly opening her eyes.

Holly Whittaker's brow furrowed as she placed a light, pale hand on her daughter's back. "Dearest, you must be seeing things. Come, come. Could you show us to our rooms, please?" she flashed an apologetic smile towards the staff as she guided her daughter inside the lodge.

Bia pursed her lips in defiance, but gave in to her mother's motion. Following the woman inside, she gaped with awe.

Pillars of logs made up one full wall, covered in tinsel that wove all around the lodge. The front desk was long and tall and made of a rich brown wood. A balcony looked down at them from at least twenty feet up, and she gazed up at people who peered over the edge.

"Oh my God. What kind of resort is this?" Bia gasped. 

"Do you like it?" Mrs. Whittaker asked.

"It's gorgeous," her daughter breathed, it wasn't exactly remote or super rural, but Bia had to admit, it was absolutely breathtaking. Perhaps she wouldn't mind spending Christmas here after all.

After retrieving a keycard from a starstruck front desk worker, the Whittakers climbed the grand staircase to the second floor. Bia, her tirade forgotten, walked ahead of her parents, eyes bright with anticipation. 

Mrs. Whittaker swiped the keycard in front of a pair of large oak double doors. Bia heard a lock flick open from the inside, so she pushed the doors away, blinking away the surprise that came with the sight.

It was a regular hotel room, if not abnormally larger than most. Two queen beds sat on opposite sides of the wall, a picture window taking up the wall beside them both. A desk was nudged into the corner and a TV sat atop it.

Bia shrugged off her disappointment. It was normal. This was nothing special for her.

You see, the Whittakers were nothing short of millionaires. With money passed down from generations past, Bia would inherit the fortune just as her parents had. Except she was not like her family: not greedy, not business-like. Bia just wanted to be herself, to go to regular school and not be recognized by people on the street. She was also aware of the fact that it was a dream likely to never come true. 

Bia had been to dozens of countries, stayed in mansions and skyscrapers alike. This was just another basic room like the ones she'd stayed in thousands of times before.

"So, what are the rules?" Bia asked, bouncing down onto the bed closest to the window, claiming it as her own. "Curfew?"

Normally, when they travelled, Bia had the luxury of bounding around town on her own.  Her parents (sometimes) gave her a curfew, gave her a credit card. Said "see you soon!"

Bia so, so desperately wanted to do that in this gorgeous mountain lodge. To ice skate, cross-country ski, visit the adorable shops downtown. Mountain bike in the snow.

"Bug," her father said, holding her shoulders firmly. "Your Christmas present from us is no curfew. You get to go do whatever you want, we'll give you some money: and you're off."

A realization dawned on Bia. She had expected her parents to give her stricter rules than normal, mostly for the sake of spending "family time" together or whatever.

"This is a work trip," she set her jaw.

She tried to ignore the pity that flashed on her parents' faces. "It is, sweetheart."

Anger began to bubble. She thought this was for her.

But no. It was just an opportunity for her parents to make more money. Like usual.

"Can I have the card now, then, please?" she asked, lips pursed with indignation.

Her father looked nervous as he placed the blue-tinted square in her hand. "Use it wisely."

"Don't I always?" she raked her sharp glare over both of them before opening one of the double doors and walking out.

Little did she know what she'd be getting into when she ran right into Guinivere Stockman.