ARIA'S POV
"ARIA! Get down here and scrub this floor! NOW!"
My hands shake as I stuff the last pair of jeans into my suitcase. Celeste's voice cuts through the house like a knife. Three years of that voice. Three years of "Aria, clean this" and "Aria, you worthless girl" and "Aria, your father would be ashamed."
I zip the suitcase shut. My whole life fits into one bag now.
The black invitation sits on my bed, heavy paper sealed with red wax. It arrived this morning—my eighteenth birthday. No card from Celeste. No cake. No acknowledgment that I even exist. Just another day of being invisible in my own home.
Except for this.
Thornveil Academy cordially invites Miss Aria Blackwood...
Full scholarship. Room and board included. Transportation arranged. I don't know where Thornveil is or why they want me. I don't care. Anywhere is better than here.
"ARIA!" Celeste screams again. "If you're not down here in thirty seconds—"
I grab my suitcase and take one last look at my attic bedroom. It used to be the servants' quarters before Dad died. Now it's mine. Celeste moved me up here the week after the funeral, gave my real bedroom to Vivian. "More appropriate for your station," she'd said with that cold smile.
My station. Like I'm hired help instead of the daughter of the man who owned this house.
The clock on my phone reads 11:43 PM. The invitation said a car would come at midnight. I have seventeen minutes to get out of this house without Celeste stopping me.
I creep down the attic stairs, my heart pounding so loud I'm sure she'll hear it. The hallway is dark except for the light from the kitchen where Celeste is probably finding something else for me to clean.
Fifteen more minutes.
The main staircase creaks under my weight. I freeze, barely breathing. Nothing. No footsteps. No shouting. I keep moving, my suitcase clutched tight.
Twelve more minutes.
The front door is right there. So close. My hand reaches for the handle—
"Going somewhere?"
I spin around. Vivian stands at the top of the stairs in her silk pajamas, arms crossed, smirking. My stepsister looks like a model even at midnight—perfect blonde hair, perfect skin, everything about her perfect and cruel.
"Move, Vivian," I whisper.
"Or what?" She walks down the stairs slowly, like a cat playing with a mouse. "You'll run away? Mom will find you. She always does."
"I'm eighteen. She can't stop me anymore."
Vivian laughs. "You really think you can just leave? With what money? What plan? You're nothing without this family, Aria. You're—"
"I'm done." My voice comes out stronger than I feel. "Done being your servant. Done being invisible. Done."
Something flickers in Vivian's eyes. Not anger. Something worse. Pity.
"You have no idea what you're walking into," she says quietly. "That invitation—"
"Is my way out."
"It's a trap."
The words hang between us. Before I can ask what she means, headlights sweep through the front windows. A car. Black. Sleek. No license plate.
Midnight.
"Last chance," Vivian says. "Stay here. Forget the invitation. Mom will kill you when she finds out you left."
"I don't care anymore."
I yank open the front door. Cold night air hits my face, smelling like freedom. The black car idles in our driveway, engine silent despite running. The driver sits motionless behind tinted windows.
Something feels wrong about this. The car. The invitation. Vivian's warning.
But staying here will kill me slower than anything else could.
I run.
My feet hit the driveway stones. The suitcase bangs against my leg. Behind me, Vivian yells, "Mom! MOM! She's leaving!"
The car's back door opens by itself. No one gets out. No one speaks.
I hesitate for just a second. This is insane. I don't know these people. Don't know where they're taking me. The invitation could be fake, could be dangerous, could be—
"ARIA!" Celeste's voice explodes from the house.
I dive into the car.
The door slams shut behind me. Locks click. The driver doesn't turn around, doesn't greet me, doesn't acknowledge I exist. He's just a shadow behind dark glass.
"Wait," I say. "I need to—"
We're moving. Fast. Too fast for a residential street.
I twist in my seat, looking back at my house through the rear window. Celeste stands in the doorway now, Vivian beside her. My stepmother should be angry. Should be screaming. Should be calling the police.
She's not.
Celeste is smiling.
Not the fake smile she uses for the neighbors. Not the cold smile she gives me when she assigns more chores. This is different. This smile reaches her eyes. Makes her look almost... satisfied.
Like she's been waiting for this.
Like this is exactly what she wanted.
Ice floods my veins. I grab for the door handle. Locked. I pound on the divider between me and the driver. "Stop! Let me out! STOP!"
He doesn't react. Doesn't slow down. The car speeds up instead, racing away from my neighborhood, away from everything I know.
I twist back to look one more time. Celeste stands in the driveway now, lit by the porch light. She raises one hand.
She waves.
We turn a corner. The house disappears.
I'm alone in a car with a silent driver, heading to a school I've never heard of, with an invitation that appeared out of nowhere. And my stepmother—who's made my life hell for three years—just smiled and waved like I'm heading off to summer camp.
Vivian's words echo in my head: "It's a trap."
My phone buzzes. One new message. From a number I don't recognize.
I open it with shaking hands.
Welcome to your new life, Aria. We've been waiting for you. - T.A.
The message deletes itself as I watch, disappearing like it was never there.
The car speeds faster into the dark. Trees blur past the windows. The road ahead is empty, stretching into mountains I don't recognize.
Behind me, everything I've ever known grows smaller and smaller until it's gone.
And somewhere in that darkness ahead, something is waiting for me.
Someone who knew exactly when I'd run.
Someone my stepmother wanted me to find.
I clutch my suitcase and realize I haven't escaped at all.
I've walked right into something I don't understand.
And there's no going back.