Chapter 6
Six
The stone bedroom, Miranda’s cold house, and Ryder’s harshness.
I avoided dinner last night, finishing the barbecue potato chips and hiding under the comforter. It was a broken night of sleep, but there weren’t any nightmares. Just me staring at the ceiling, replaying yesterday’s humiliation on an endless loop.
My new school uniform hangs on the closet door like a stranger’s clothes. Navy blazer with the Ashworth Academy crest embroidered in gold thread. White button-down shirt. Navy and royal blue plaid skirt. Knee-high socks and shiny black shoes.
After taking off the tags, wearing the uniform feels unpleasantly boxy. Like I’m dressed to conform in a world where I don’t belong. Because underneath the fancy clothes, I’m still just Alice Winter. The girl who lost her parents because she faked being sick so she wouldn’t have to help them.
My hand shakes on my first attempt to apply mascara, and I decide it’s not worth the effort. I put the makeup back on the counter and glimpse the dry skin. I put a fresh bandage on the dark red scab healing on my palm. The hideous reminder of my chaotic clumsiness doesn’t need to be out on display.
I leave my bedroom, hoping that leaving the house will feel better than staying inside it.
Anything has to be better than staying here.
Miranda said someone would drive me to school, but she didn’t say when, who, or where I was supposed to meet them.
I make my way downstairs and find myself in the kitchen.
It’s enormous, with stainless steel appliances and enough counter space to cater a wedding.
The kind of kitchen my parents would have killed for.
The thought hits me like a punch to the gut. My parents will never see another kitchen. They’ll never cook another meal, or bicker about the proper way to fold napkins, or laugh while they clean up together.
I lean against the granite counter and breathe through the sudden wave of grief.
“You’re up early, darling.”
I spin around to find Miranda in the doorway, already dressed for business in a sharp black suit, and not a hair out of place. She’s holding a coffee cup and wearing the practiced smile that never reaches her eyes.
“We missed you at dinner last night.” She moves into the kitchen with effortless grace. “First day jitters?”
“Something like that,” I manage.
“Perfectly understandable.” She sets her cup down and opens a cabinet, pulling out a plate. “You must eat something before school. Growing girls need proper nutrition, especially on important days like this.”
She sets out a croissant, some fruit, and a small container of yogurt. The gesture would seem motherly if it didn’t feel so... choreographed.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
“Of course, dear. I want you to do well at Ashworth. It’s such a wonderful school. You’ll make so many valuable connections there.” Her smile widens. “And Ryder will be there with you. Won’t that be nice?”
Before I can respond, footsteps echo in the hallway.
Ryder appears in the doorway, already dressed in his Ashworth uniform. The navy blazer makes his dark eyes appear even more intense. His hair is styled in that casual way that probably takes twenty minutes to achieve.
He stops when he sees me, his expression growing carefully blank.
“Good morning, Ryder,” Miranda says brightly. “The car service will be here in fifteen minutes. You and Alice can have breakfast together before you head out.”
I watch a muscle in Ryder’s jaw flex. “In separate cars?”
“I wasn’t in a position to get a second car to come to the house,” Miranda says in a curiously careful way.
“No.” Ryder moves to the coffee machine, his movements tight with anger. “Miranda, you said you’d keep her away from me. That was the deal.”
“If necessary, I’ll arrange separate transportation,” Miranda replies smoothly. “But today, Ryder, you’ll manage sharing your car.”
“I use that time to work on lyrics,” Ryder snaps, not looking at either of us. “I need that space to think. To create. That’s why I have the car to myself.”
“I’m sure Alice won’t bother you,” Miranda says, her voice still pleasant but with an edge underneath. “Will you, darling?”
I shake my head quickly, staring at the untouched food in front of me.
“Miranda, she can’t keep it together right now. Her situation is turning her into a ticking time bomb,” Ryder rants. “She’s likely to break something during the car ride and cause a crash.”
The insult lunges into me like a knife wound.
A car crash.
I would never.
My parents.
I would never disgrace my parents.
It’s not their fault they died.
It’s…
It’s mine.
“And besides,” Miranda continues, “it’s twenty minutes to get into town. It’s plenty of time for you to work through your creative process.”
Ryder slams his coffee mug down on the counter. “That’s not the point. The point is—“ He cuts himself off, jaw clenched. “Fine. Whatever. But I’m not making small talk. If she wants a running commentary on Victoria Falls landmarks, she can ask the driver.”
My stomach churns at the references to me as “she.” As if I’m not in the room. As if my name were a curse word. As if I’m the person he hates just for existing.
“Alice can handle it,” Miranda says, turning to get my full attention. “Right, Alice?”
I nod quickly. “Right.”
“See? Everyone’s on the same page.” Miranda checks her phone again. “Now, the car will be here in ten minutes. Alice, eat something. Ryder, try to be civil.”
She leaves the kitchen, her heels clicking down the hallway.
The silence that follows is excruciating.
Ryder pours coffee into a travel mug, every movement sharp and angry. I try to eat the croissant, but it tastes like sawdust in my mouth.
“Look,” Ryder says without turning around. “In the car, you don’t talk to me. You don’t touch anything. You don’t even breathe too loud. Got it?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“And at school…” He finally turns to face me, his dark eyes cold. “We don’t know each other. You stay away from me, my friends, and my bandmates. Everyone.”
I nod because saying words is too hard.
“Good.” He caps his mug and leans against the counter. “Because the last thing I need is you stumbling into something else and causing another disaster. I can’t handle any more of your accidents.”
My chest seizes.
That word.
Accident.
It echoes in my head.
Their catering van spun on the mountain road.
“I swear to God, Miranda or no Miranda, I will make your life hell,” Ryder finishes.
All I can hear is the sound of rain, thunder, and the screech of tires on wet pavement.
“Hey,” Ryder’s voice cuts through the noise in my head. “Are you listening to me?”
I force myself to nod, but my hands are trembling. I clasp them in my lap, trying to hide it.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks, irritation clear in his voice.
“Nothing,” I whisper. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine. You look like you’re gonna pass out.”
“I said, I’m fine.” My voice comes out sharper than intended. “I’ll stay quiet in the car. I’ll stay away from you at school. Is there anything else?”
Ryder studies me for a moment, his expression unreadable. “No. Just... don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“I’ll follow your rules as long as you follow one of mine.” I swallow hard, and my head spins, trying its best to throw me off balance. “Don’t talk about why I moved here or my parents. No one needs to know.”
Ryder smirks. “Did you think I wanted to talk about you?”
He’s the worst. Why am I holding back the urge to vomit? I should just launch my lack of breakfast right at him.
The sound of tires on gravel announces the car’s arrival.
“That’s our ride,” Ryder says, grabbing his backpack and coffee. “Let’s go.”
I follow him outside on unsteady legs. The morning air is crisp and cold, and I can see my breath in the dim light.
A sleek black sedan waits in the driveway with a uniformed driver standing beside it. Because, of course, there is.
Ryder gets in the back seat without a word, spreading out his notebook and putting in earbuds, shutting me out completely.
I slide into the seat next to him, trying to make myself as small as possible.
The driver gives me a kind smile in the rearview mirror. “First day at Ashworth?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a good school. You’ll do fine.”
I nod to be polite. The school itself is irrelevant. It’s the fact that my entire life has flipped upside down and is obliterated beyond repair that’s making me sick to my stomach.
As we pull away from the house, I keep my breathing shallow and quiet. I do nothing that might set Ryder off. From the corner of my eye, I watch him scribbling in his notebook. His brow furrows in concentration. Every few seconds, he taps his pen against the page in rhythm.
The low hum of the engine is my soundtrack for the drive down the mountain.
The morning mist clings to the trees, making everything look ethereal and slightly unreal.
We wind through bends that make my stomach clench, and past drop-offs that seem to go on forever.
Every curve reminds me of the mountain shortcut.
The one my parents took because they were running late. Because I wasn’t there to help them.
I press my hand against the car door, grounding myself. Counting my breaths. Four in, hold, four out.
Finally, we reach the town of Victoria Falls. It’s not the tiny mountain village I’d imagined, but an actual town with boutique shops, expensive-looking restaurants, and a downtown area that screams money.
“It’s bigger than I thought,” I say without thinking, then immediately regret it.
Ryder doesn’t respond or even acknowledge I spoke.
But the driver smiles. “Victoria Falls has grown a lot in recent years. Tech money, mostly. People who want mountain views and city amenities.”
I nod, keeping my eyes on the scenery as we drive through the pristine streets. Everything here looks opulent and maintained.
And then we pull up at Ashworth Academy, and my breath hitches.