Page 13 of The Prince of Broken Crowns

And yet, I can’t get past this inkling it’s a big prank.

“Sounds good.” I force a smile onto my face.

She returns it then says goodbye before endeavoring toward the parking lot with Bruce trailing behind her. Not surprising, they climb into the Mercedes, which also removes the probability that Drew and his friends are behind this, unless they stole the vehicle, but that’s a little extreme, even for them.

Stepping back, I shut and lock the door. Then I return to my room, sink onto the unmade bed, lean against the headboard, and turn the envelope over, staring at the wax seal. I don’t tear the envelope open, my distrust for this situation flowing potently through me.

It makes no sense that I’d be selected for this type of thing. Not to mention I’ve never heard of someone from northside getting chosen for a scholarship

I set the envelope down without opening it and open my internet browser on my phone while examining Bethany’s business card. Then I type in the name of the company she works for.

Tons of articles pop up, along with the business website. It’s a highly prestigious law firm with a high-profile clientele. The more I scroll through the information online, the more skeptical I become that Drew and his gang are behind this. Creating business cards, hiring a woman and man to show up at my house, stealing a Mercedes, buying a wax stamp of the Royal Academy Crest—I highly doubt the guy voted the biggest procrastinator in high school is behind this project.

Diving deeper into my investigation, I search the Royal Academy. The website is the first thing to pop up, so I click on it. I’ve seen glimpses of it from some regions of northside and in photos that are attached to articles, but I forgot how castle-esque it is, with towers that peak to the sky, glistening, golden-trimmed columns, and a wide staircase that leads to the arched entrance. And that’s just the outside view. The inside is equally as beautiful, with marble floors, cathedral ceilings, spiral stairways, and crystal chandeliers. Not to mention the highly sought-after professors, and the list of classes is beyond anything I could come up with in my wildest imagination.

Suddenly, it crashes into me like a car wreck. I could go to this place and get the education I never dreamed of, only to avoid disappointment. It’s how I’ve lived my life—with low expectations because anything else would crush me.

But what if this is all real? What if I could go here?

I toss my phone aside, draw my knees to my chest, and yank my fingers through my hair, absolutely terrified.

It’s ridiculous, I know, to be terrified of getting something great. But that’s the thing about living on northside—you get so used to everything being awful that anything good almost feels like a threat.

Maddison

It’s been an hour, and the envelope Bethany gave me is currently sitting on my bed, unopened. I’ve been distracting myself by calling up friends of my mother’s and a few bar owners to see if they’ve seen her. Every answer is the same.

“Sorry, Mads, but I haven’t seen her,” the owner of a bar my mother frequently hangs out at tells me. “Have you tried Larry’s bar? She’s been going there lately.”

I pace the living room. “Yeah, I tried there already, and no one’s seen her.”

“I’m sure she’ll show up eventually,” he assures me. “She always does.”

He’s right, but she also stole almost two thousand dollars from me, and that’s more money than she’s ever had in her life. She could be doing all sorts of crazy things. Hell, she could’ve left the city.

“But if I do see her,” he says, “I’ll have her call you.”

“Thanks.” I hang up and slump into the lumpy sofa, weighed down by defeat.

To distract myself, I call up the police department to see if I can persuade the receptionist to divulge who paid my bail because it’s been driving me absolutely insane.

“I’m sorry, hon,” she tells me. “I can’t give out that information since the person who paid for it wants to remain anonymous.”

I blow out a frustrated exhale. “Fine, but can you at least tell me when my court date is?”

Click. Click. Click. I hear her typing on the keyboard.

“Sorry, it’s not in the system yet,” she replies. “But you can try to call back in a few days. Our systems are slow here.”

“Okay, thanks.” I hang up and rake my fingers through my hair.

Why would anyone do this for me? Who would do this for me?

I think about the lady who showed up on my doorstep, wondering if the two could be connected. I could open the envelope, but I’m still hesitant. Instead, I check my emails, but that only leaves me in more of a downer mood due to the email I receive from Royal City Community College.

Dear Maddison Averly,

It has been brought to our attention that you’re currently on probation and, unfortunately, we can no longer award you with the high achievement scholarship. We’re a school that prides itself on bringing in outstanding students who excel both in school, in athletics, and their personal lives. You will still be able to attend as a regular student. However, you will have to pay the tuition fees by Aug. 15th or you will be dropped from the classes you’re currently enrolled in …

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