Page 58 of The Last De Loughrey Dynasty

Where had it gotten me?

I was a seventeen-year-old in the throes of an existential crisis because I didn’t know who I was. My heart wanted to find out exactly that. My mother was across the country and couldn’t scold or punish me for trying to be myself.

I shut the door behind me, my heart feeling heavy within my chest. The lump in my throat was thick, but I wouldn’t give in to this feeling. There had been enough breakdowns over the weekend, and I certainly wouldn’t let the sadness get a hold of me just because of a boy. There were far more important things.

It stung to face the truth about all of this, but I tried to focus on surviving next year.

An acoustic version of my favourite song started playing, and I glanced at my bed where my phone lit up in the dim light. As I walked over, the corners of my lips lifted into a smile as I looked at the wordNanaon the screen of my phone.

“Hello, Nan,” I said as I picked up the phone, sitting down on my made bed and looking out at the windows, where light rain was pattering against the glass, proving my theory about the weather wrong.

A gasp of happiness came from the other side of the line. “Hello, my little darling, I’ve missed you so much.”

It had been forever since I’d been able to talk to the only person who understood me. Nan had apparently beenfeeding into my delusionsand wasn’t agood influenceon me, so Mum had decided to put her into a retirement home. I never understood how she could be so cruel. I was one thing, but her own mother?

“I missed you too, Nan. How are you?”

“Oh, my little darling, your old Nan is doing fine. Don’t worry about me. I should be worried about you now that you’re at Aquila Hall.”

My mouth parted slightly in shock. “Mum told you?” I would have guessed she’d come up with some excuse about where I’d gone. Perhaps even saying I simply didn’t care to visit my grandmother anymore.

“Your mother told everyone you’d decided on studying abroad in the United States, staying with your father, until your graduation,” she answered, her tone tinged with sadness.

Oh.So she really was ashamed of me being here. I mean, I’d guessed it, but hearing it was another thing...

It was fine, though—not like I was used to anything different.

“But how did you know?”

Nana laughed softly. “Nan knows everything.”

I laughed with her and opened my bedside drawer, pulling out an open packet of biscuits I’d bought in Owley the week before. We might have just had dinner, but I felt the need for something sweet.

“The sad truth is, I knew the day would come when your mother couldn’t take it anymore and sent you away. You’re too special for her to understand, and Aquila Hall has always been a place for children like you, Dorothee.”

“Because your sister attended this school before?” I asked, not dancing around the actual topic I needed to get information on tonight.

Nan was silent for a moment before she spoke again. “You’ve figured it out. I knew you would, and you’ve done so quickly. You’ve always had an interest in secrets and riddles, and the answers came to you so easily.”

Nibbling on one of the biscuits, I smiled at a memory that crossed my mind. “You always encouraged that interest with the riddles you left for me on my birthday.”

Every year on my birthday, I visited Nan before the guests arrived, and instead of a present, I got a card with a riddle thatled me through the entire house, where more and more clues were hidden until I found my treasure.

“I did, yes. Someone had to prepare you for what’s about to come, my little darling.”

My smile faded at her words, and I lost interest in the vanilla-flavoured biscuit in my hand. Placing it back in the packet, I narrowed my gaze. “Nan, what do you know about what happened to Dottie?”

She sighed sadly at the mention of her sister. “I know a lot about my sister, but her death was always her greatest secret. When I first heard of her passing, I believed I could never laugh again. Dottie had been my light, but her soul was tainted with darkness and marked by death the moment she stepped foot into that school.”

As a chill rolled over me, I began to shake. I adjusted myself so that my duvet was now thrown over my shoulders, but I quickly realised I wasn’t cold. It was just anxiety taking hold of me.

“She sent me a letter three days before her death, and it arrived a day after. Dottie knew the letter would only reach me after she’d passed, and it was dated days before that day even came.”

“What did she tell you?” I felt terrible bringing up these memories my grandmother had fought so hard to forget, but it was necessary.

“She told me aboutyou.”

“What? But I wasn’t even born—not even Mum.” My heart began jackhammering in my chest. Things I used to think were impossible now seemed entirely plausible. Still, the thought that such new paths in my life were unfolding was shocking.

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