Page 2 of The Last De Loughrey Dynasty

The inside of the building was even more impressive. Everywhere I looked, there were golden accents, even on the worn stairs. The windows were my favourite part. I hated tight, enclosed spaces. Shadows loved to linger in rooms cut off from the world.

My mother’s heels clicked against the marble floors as she rushed us toward the headmaster’s office. I focused instead on the building’s architecture.

When I was thirteen and realised I had no one to turn to when the haunting began, I started noticing buildings—the way they were designed, their smallest details. It distracted me from the shadows whispering my name. It became a habit to admire architecture wherever I went.

My mother suddenly turned to me, straightened my white cardigan, and brushed my hair behind my ears as we stopped in front of an arched door. Arched doors seemed to be the standard here.

“You are going to showcase your best self. It’s important that you do so. You need this, darling.”

She was right. I needed to be away from them. Maybe here, I’d meet others who understood what I faced every day.

I nodded, and Mum sighed, “and please, for the love of God, open your mouth and speak, Dorothee.”

The change in her tone didn’t surprise me. She hated how shy I seemed to strangers. In our family, shyness wasn’t allowed. We were important people. Confident people. But what was the point of speaking when no one believed a word I said? Ipreferred to keep my thoughts to myself, safe where no one could accuse me of being a liar.

I’m not a liar. I’m just tired of being told I have a wild imagination.

The door opened before Mum could knock. She quickly straightened herself and extended her hand to a man waiting inside, smiling.

“Headmaster Shaw, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Cordelia De Loughrey, we spoke on the phone,” she said, turning to me with her hand resting lightly on my shoulder. “And this is my daughter, Dorothee.”

The older man gave me a warm, genuine smile, nothing like my mother’s. He held out his hand, and I shook it hesitantly.

“Hello,” I managed, though my voice barely carried. From the way my mother’s smile tightened, I knew she wasn’t pleased with my lack of enthusiasm.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dorothee,” the headmaster said kindly. “I’m your Headmaster, Collin Shaw. Please, come in. We have fifteen minutes before your roommate comes to meet you and give you a brief tour of the campus. After that, you’ll have some time to settle into your dorm room or explore, it’s up to you.”

“I’ll have a roommate?” I asked, surprised.

My mother laughed, “of course, darling. We discussed this in the car.”

“No, we didn’t,” I replied quickly.

She gave my shoulders a light, almost dismissive pat before taking a seat. “All the fuzz in her head makes her forgetful,” she explained, directing her comment to the two men behind the desk. One of them was Headmaster Shaw, and the other, younger man was likely my new psychologist.

“That’s completely fine,” the younger one said with a reassuring smile. He sat straight and nodded in my direction.“I’m Anwir Chadwick, the school’s psychologist, and while you’re here, I’ll be yours as well.”

He handed me a piece of paper, which I noticed immediately had three time slots written on it:

–Monday, 9 a.m.

– Wednesday, 1 p.m.

– Friday, 7 p.m.

Below that was information about our sessions and his qualifications. I’d already read all of this on the school’s website during the week leading up to my arrival.

“For the first few weeks, we’ll meet three times a week—just until you’re settled in. After that, we can adjust the schedule as needed. Does that sound okay to you?”

No, I thought. I didn’t want to tell my story all over again just to be handed another prescription for pills that wouldn’t work. But as always, I knew I didn’t have a choice.

I forced a small smile, “yes.”

“See, darling?” Mum chimed in with a tight smile, patting my arm again. “Everyone here just wants to help you.”

“Right,” the headmaster said, his voice calm. “There’s no need to be anxious. Aquila Hall has helped many teenagers in your position manage their challenges.”

“Why would you call my mind haunting me a challenge?” I asked, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them. “It’s not like I win anything by trying to fight it.”

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