Page 1 of The Last De Loughrey Dynasty

CHAPTER ONE

DOROTHEE

What wouldyou do if your child began to see things that aren’t there, visions of ancient souls desperately crying out for peace?

Right. You send them off to a mysterious boarding school tucked away in the far corners of England. A place where children with unique psychological challenges find solace–a more humane term for what the place actually is–and a good education.

A place hidden from the realm of the living, to keep the family’s disgrace far, far away.

At the age of twelve, I wouldn’t have guessed that by the beginning of my seventeenth year on this planet, I’d end up in this place for telling my mother the truth about what I was experiencing each night.

What a shame I opened myself up to her, just for a moment, my naive self thought I could trust her, but once again, she proved me wrong.

A disgrace. That’s what I was. Not special, not a unique mastermind destined to rule the world like my cousin Bethany Whitlock. Even though that was debatable, considering perfect Bethany isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer.

Since my mother’s sister had broken tradition by taking her husband’s name on their wedding day, I was the only heir to the De Loughrey name.

Obviously, my mother tried for more children after my diagnosis of psychological difficulties. She wanted another heir for this family. We were too important to end with…me.

All her hopes ended in ashes.

Every pregnancy after me was a miscarriage, as if the universe wanted me to be the last De Loughrey.

I’ve never understood why this mattered so much to her. She could have adopted a child if she wanted to replace me so badly, but it was never about having another child. It was about having a child with De Loughrey blood to continue our lineage, because their daughter wasn’t worthy of it. An heir to represent her and our name.

Old money makes people go mad.That’s what Grandma always told me. She always listened to me, to my dreams—she called them visions. She listened to the things I saw when I couldn’t sleep at night.

But Mother forbade me from visiting her after a maid reported what she overheard Grandma telling me, that the voices were a gift, and I needed to listen to them.

That was a month ago, and the same week my mother decided it was time to send me away. To keep me from influencing anyone else with myterrifying imagination.

The car approached the gateway of the old building, which looked like it hadn’t been renovated in a century, if ever. The stones were likely white at some point but had turned beige over the years, weathered by storms and sun. The eagle statues on the gateposts bore signs of their age, their wings shattered at the edges.

The emblem of Aquila Hall Academy was an eagle, and they made that very clear with the massive eagle statue perched above the doors, welcoming you to the school.

Welcoming.A big word.

The drive to the school had taken almost six hours, and for the last two, my driver navigated roads surrounded by endless trees.

We were in the middle of nowhere.

I stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut behind me. Cold air filled my lungs as I closed my eyes, savouring the moment. Sleep had always come in waves, and it was never restful.

“Dorothee, your clothes,” my mother reminded me with a dramatic sigh. I stepped away from the dirty car, careful not to brush against it and stain my beige skirt.

Cornelia De Loughrey was a tall, elegant woman, her blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun with not a strand out of place. She had the classic De Loughrey features—features some women went under the scalpel to achieve.

She was everything I wasn’t.

I wasn’t built like a model, like the daughter she had envisioned. She wanted a carbon copy of herself to spoil, but instead, she got me, a girl with hair so bright it was considered unnatural by most people who saw me. Younger me could never understand why. My hair was copper. I wish I could like it, but six-year-old Dorothee believed the colour of her hair was why her mother didn’t like talking to her.

“We should keep going. I need to be back in London tomorrow,” Mum said with a smile I wanted to believe was soft. It wasn’t. She was just happy to have found a solution for me.

“David, please place my daughter’s belongings in her assigned room.”

Our family’s driver nodded and opened the trunk while Mum grabbed my arm and led me to the doors.

“We have a meeting with the headmaster and your new psychologist at nine. We’re already four minutes late because of all that fog.”

---