3. VERENA GRAVENHURST #2
If this letter has found its way into your hands, then you stand within the walls of the Gravenhurst Manor, and I am no longer with you.
You do not know me, yet I have known you all your life.
I’ve watched you from afar, proud as you grew into a reflection of your mother.
Beautiful, fearless and far too kind for this cruel world.
If you are anything like her, you will try to run from what you are, from who you are.
Tears prick the backs of my eyes and threaten to fall at the mention of her. I close them for a moment and take a deep breath, calming my nerves before I continue reading.
I have left to you everything that bears the Gravenhurst crest, but inheritance without knowledge creates a generation of fools.
To claim what is yours, you must attend Hollowcrest Academy for no less than one full semester.
Only there will you see why I have chosen this path for you and the legacy that has been yours since the day you were born.
You will hear many things about me, my dear, and most of which will be true.
I have been named cruel, and perhaps I am.
But in my cruel nature, I have protected the Gravenhurst name.
Remember, Verena, that the truth often lies behind the things that poison us.
Be brave, be observant, and you will do just fine.
Welcome home,
Ambrose Gravenhurst
A small, loose paper slips free from the letter, fluttering to the ground in gentle whirls.
Picking it up, I regard the image. In an office with the same wallpaper as the manor halls, a burly man in a suit cradles a small child in his arms. On the back, in messy handwriting, it says, Verena Gravenhurst, one year old.
My fingers tremble as I grip the photograph with unsteady hands.
Inhale, exhale. This is all too much. Yesterday, I didn’t even know my grandfather existed, but learning he was out there all these years, watching me, knowing about me…
the conflicting emotions I feel are almost too much to bear.
My eyes wander around the room, taking in the fine details of the place that is now to be my permanent residence.
My mind is struggling to catch up with the reality that has been laid out before me.
Everything that bears the Gravenhurst crest. The words are a loud echo at the forefront of my thoughts.
Swallowing the hard lump in my throat, I stare at the exquisite four-post bed with tiny carvings of florals etched into the wooden pillars.
The bedding—so full, so violet and plush, beckoning me while encased in a canopy of sheer blackness.
I climb into it, clutching the letter in my grip while I situate myself in comfort and then read it over again.
Fear sits in the pit of my stomach at the thought of attending Hollowcrest Academy for even one day, let alone an entire semester.
There’s no way I’ll make it through an entire semester in a place where I know I won’t fit in.
One glance in my direction and anyone with eyes will be able to tell I don’t belong.
No, I refuse to put myself through the embarrassment.
Just like everything else in my life, this dream was too good to be true.
I’ll wait for the break of dawn to be on my way, to make my exit and put the manor behind me, as if it was never mine at all.
Pressing my ear flush against the door, I listen for any oncoming footsteps in the hallway.
I turn the doorknob and pull gently. The door creaks open, the whining hinges echoing in the dead of night.
Holding my breath, I stand still, listening, waiting, for what, I’m unsure.
The deafening silence fills the corridor, leading me to believe the coast is clear.
I take a step into the hallway, pressing my toes gently onto the marble floor, praying that with each step I take, I won’t draw any attention from the strangers that roam about the manor.
My steps are calculated as I make my way down the oversized staircase, pressing myself against the walls with my duffle bag and shoes in hand, a poor attempt to blend in with the shadows.
I hear footsteps ascending the staircase, and panic overrides my senses.
Dipping behind a large vase littered with beautiful dark flowers, I freeze, waiting for the person to pass me by to continue my escape.
A woman dressed in uniform, carrying an armful of fresh linen, nods her head at me in greeting, a warm smile gracing her lips, and she continues on her way.
Clearly, I’m not as stealthy as I’d like to think.
Picking up pace, I skip down the rest of the stairs, beelining my way to the front exit before I’m spotted by anyone else.
The large doors close behind me with a thud, and I exhale a breath that has trapped itself deep within my lungs. I can’t do this. The thought is entirely preposterous. Who would think I would belong in such a place?
Spinning on my heel, I march my way down the stairs of the massive manor, ready to leave this pipe dream behind me, keeping to the shadows so as not to be spotted by anyone.
I’m hopping on one foot, struggling to put on my other shoe as I walk, a sight to behold to anyone who should stumble upon me.
As I make my way to the gate, I trip over a large stone, cursing as I land face-first on the asphalt.
A hiss escapes my lips as my kneecaps sting, courtesy of the gash I have just received from the sudden impact.
Of course, my two left feet would fail me now.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand tall when the sound of snickering can be heard from a short distance behind me.
“Now that’s gonna leave a mark.”
My eyes narrow as they trail over to the man I saw covered in dirt earlier this afternoon. He’s standing under a tree, in the same position he was in when I first laid eyes on him.
“Is that all you do, lean around all day?” My words are laced with venom, but they don’t seem to hit their mark. Completely unfazed, he looks around, as if seeing something I do not.
“Apparently, I enjoy it all night as well.” He smiles, a gorgeous smile that I would absolutely love to wipe off his smug face. I huff in response, not wanting to give him any more ammunition.
“You don’t need to sneak about, you know. The manor isn’t a prison, Miss Gravenhurst.” He continues to watch me as I sit on the ground, making no moves to pick up my bag or aid me in standing back up.
“Ren,” I scowl. “My name is Ren.” Gathering myself together, I stand and brush myself off. “And I’m not sneaking about, I was just on my way out. You have not seen me.” I glare at him in warning.
“Very well, Ren.” He covers his eyes with his hand as if he cannot see me at all. He thinks he’s funny.
I stomp my way back to the manor, no longer feeling confident in my not-so-stealthy exit.