Just One Kiss (Last Chance Academy #1)

Prologue

The shadows were deep, but the shadows were always deep in the old building, especially at this time of night.

Their implied menace went a long way toward keeping the younger girls in their beds.

Who knew, after all, what could be hiding in dark corners where the cold breezes from the moors crept in through loose windows and swirled around bare ankles?

On the other hand, the shadows that quelled the young were also very handy for hiding all manner of nefarious behavior.

“Hurry! We don’t have much time.”

“Well, if it hadn’t taken you so long to get past the lock...”

“Or if you hadn’t stopped to sample the loot.”

“If both of you wouldn’t waste time arguing about everything.”

Their bare feet made little sound on the cold stone floors.

They knew exactly how to sneak past enemy doors, even as they clutched unwieldy treasure in their arms. It did make opening those doors an exercise in balance that looked more like dancing lessons than theft.

But they’d had enough practice to see it through.

Besides, once inside, they were greeted like the heroes they were.

“Our bedtime snack is here!”

Whispered thanks met them as they began to pass out their booty, girl by girl.

Even for the excitement that spread down the long room, the noise was minimal.

A quiet thank you, a delighted sigh of anticipation.

A muffled crunch as a prize was consumed.

Reward enough and more for the chances the burglars had taken.

Nutrition shared for girls regularly made to go hungry for the lesson of discipline.

Or the greed of the administrators, as all the girls knew.

The sneak thieves had just made it to the last bed when the dormitory door slammed open.

These new intruders were not nearly as careful nor as quiet.

And they held a lantern high enough to light over thirty girls from ages seven to fourteen crouched on spare beds, suddenly frozen in place, half with purloined bread in their mouths, panicked eyes facing their doom, jaws still working to get their treats consumed before they were confiscated.

Standing by the furthest iron beds, the three miscreants stood as straight and tall as they could, considering one was a head shorter than her comrades. They quickly hid the remaining loot behind them rather than lose it.

“You three,” Miss Larinda Chase accused in failing tones. “Why does it always have to be you three?”

“Because,” a little voice piped up from the middle of the room, “they’re our fairy godmothers. They promised they would always grant our wishes.”

Not exactly. They had promised they would always respond to appeals for help.

It didn’t make the next hours of cold isolation crouched in dark and narrow closets any warmer.

It did make the headmistress’s consternation more satisfying.

And it made their sentences at Last Chance Academy less onerous, at least until the next year when Georgie, Charlie, and Eddie Packham helped foment rebellion and overthrew the administration.

But that is a story for other times. This is the time to talk of fairy godmothers.