Taken from a possible joyful life at an early age, the heroine finds herself suddenly summoned to the office of the director of the boarding school because a young man wants to talk to her. She, who had to fight like an animal just to have a chance to survive, is helpless in the face of what the young man tells her. From that day on, the world as she always knew it was turned upside down. - You look like our mother. Nice to meet you, little sister.
Chapter 1 Shahan
It's cold today. Did the temperature drop again? My fingers are wet and cold. This color disgusts me. I want to rub my hands, to wash them, but it's no use. He tied them. I can't move them. No matter how hard I try, I can't move my body out of this chair. I have only one solution: to wait. I have to wait for the little girl crying in front of me to make her choice.
- It's either her or you, you have no other choice.
- I... I can't do this.
- 30 seconds left, point and shoot.
- No, I... I can't do it. Please don't...
Not another word. Total silence followed the cannon shot and the lifeless body of the newcomer fell to the ground. A large puddle of reddish liquid quickly formed around it. Without even having time to analyze what had just happened in front of me, my eyes fell on the armed man in front of me with the gun pointed at me. His cold smile was followed by a deafening sound.
BANG
The 17-year-old girl woke up with a start, making the whole class laugh. It didn't take her long to realize where she was. That dream again, that memory coming back to haunt her. Some say trauma leaves scars, and in Shahan's case, it's very real.
After she catches her breath, her indifferent gaze scans the room, waiting for someone to explain why she's been awakened. When she raised her head, she was met with the mocking looks of her classmates, for across from her stood a teacher with a face red with anger. Not more than a scolding away, the teenager didn't seem surprised by the turn of events.
- Miss Shahan, please report to the principal's office.
Without a word, the girl gets up, grabs her things, and heads for the door, ignoring the laughter and scornful looks of her classmates.
- And I would like to ask you to stop sleeping in my class. I don't care if you screw up your life, but please don't make the others lose motivation.
- What has she done this time?
- No idea, but the way she is, it can't be good.
- Serves her right. Every day she snubs us as if she's in a better position than us, the orphans.
- Shut up, she'll listen to you.
- What's wrong with that? I could talk even louder and she wouldn't be able to do anything about it.
Many things are acceptable in society, but here in Ragas, the simple fact of being without parents seems to be the greatest sin of all, especially in the eyes of the upper classes. Orphans are treated as pariahs, outcasts who are discriminated against no matter how talented they are. This place may be a paradise for some, but for others it's nothing more than a dystopian world.
True to form, Shahan ignores the murmurs about her and heads for Mr. Gerard's office, already resigned to the idea of being insulted. Arriving at the principal's office, Shahan knocks before entering.
- You called me.
- Ah, Shahan, come in and sit down. This young man has come to see you. I didn't know you had a family.
In the room, a young man who looks to be in his early twenties stares at the young woman. Nothing malicious, just curiosity. For a brief moment, the two individuals seem lost in another world as they stare at each other.
Silence.
- A family?
- Gerard, could you give us a few minutes? I'd like to speak with Shahan alone.
- Of course, Mr. Williams Jr. Please make yourself comfortable and I'll be outside if you need anything.
Without asking, the principal left the office, accompanied by his secretary. Shahan never took her eyes off the young man who had just spoken.
- The more I look at you, the more I realize how powerful genetics can be.
- And you are?
- You look a lot like her. You have the same look. There's no doubt about it, you're a Williams.
- A Williams what? Who do I look like? Can we stop this charade?
- Even the bad temper reminds me of someone.
- I beg your pardon?
- You look like our mother. Nice to meet you, little sister.