JADE'S POV
I didn't get in the car.
The man in the black suit stood by the open door, waiting. Patient. Like he had all the time in the world and I had none.
"Miss Morrison, we need to leave now."
"Not until you tell me who you are." My voice shook but I stood my ground. "And why you're blackmailing me."
His expression didn't change. "I'm Agent Richardson. I work for Regency Academy's security division. And we're not blackmailing you—we're offering you an opportunity."
"An opportunity?" I laughed, sharp and bitter. "You threatened my sister with jail time!"
"Your sister committed fraud by entering your name in the lottery without your knowledge or consent. That's a federal crime with a minimum sentence of three years." He tilted his head. "But if you attend Regency Academy as required, all charges will be dropped. Everyone wins."
"Everyone except me."
"You're receiving a full scholarship worth over two million dollars, Miss Morrison. Most people would be grateful."
I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. But Victoria's face flashed in my mind—scared, alone, in prison because of something stupid she'd done out of jealousy.
I got in the car.
We drove in silence for twenty minutes before pulling up to my apartment. The sky was turning gray with early morning light. I'd been awake for almost twenty-four hours straight.
"You have fifteen minutes to pack," Agent Richardson said. "Essentials only."
"What about my job? My bills? My life?"
"Your employer has been notified. Your rent is paid through the end of your lease. Everything is handled."
They'd already dismantled my entire existence and I'd just found out about it.
I stumbled up the stairs to my apartment. The door was unlocked—Victoria must have come home while I was at the café. I pushed it open, hoping she'd be there so I could explain, so I could make her understand this wasn't my fault.
The apartment was empty.
But her room was destroyed. Clothes thrown everywhere, drawers pulled out, her precious makeup collection smashed on the floor. She'd trashed everything in a rage before leaving.
On my pillow was a note in her handwriting: "I hope you're happy. You took everything from me."
The words stabbed through my chest. She really believed I'd done this on purpose. She thought I'd stolen her dream.
I had fourteen minutes left.
I grabbed my backpack and shoved in clothes without looking at them. Toothbrush. Phone charger. The photo of Mom from my nightstand—the last one taken before she got sick, when she was still smiling.
My hand reached automatically for my jewelry box, searching for Mom's necklace. The simple silver chain with a tiny bird charm. She'd given it to me the night before she died, made me promise to wear it always.
The box was empty.
I tore through my room, panic rising in my throat. Under the bed, in my drawers, through the pockets of every jacket. Nothing.
Victoria. She must have taken it when she trashed her room. Revenge for the lottery.
"Time's up, Miss Morrison," Agent Richardson called from the doorway.
"Wait, I need—" My voice cracked. "I need to find something. Just five more minutes."
"We're late already. Let's go."
He wasn't going to give me more time. He didn't care that the only piece of my mother I had left was gone. That my sister had taken it out of spite.
I followed him down the stairs, my backpack feeling impossibly light. I'd just packed up twenty-one years of life in fifteen minutes and it fit in one bag.
The private jet was smaller than I expected but nicer than anything I'd ever seen. Leather seats. A TV. A woman in a crisp uniform offering me orange juice like this was normal.
I sat by the window and watched Seattle disappear beneath clouds.
Agent Richardson sat across from me, typing on his phone. After an hour of silence, he finally spoke. "You should try to sleep. It's a long flight."
"Where are we going?"
"Switzerland."
Switzerland. Across the entire world. As far from home as possible.
"What if I fail?" The question came out small and scared. "What if I can't keep up with all those rich kids? What if I embarrass your fancy academy?"
He looked at me for a long moment. "Then you fail. But your sister stays out of prison either way. That was the deal."
So even if I crashed and burned, at least Victoria would be safe. That was something.
I closed my eyes but sleep wouldn't come. My mind kept spinning with everything I'd lost in one night—my job, my apartment, my sister, Mom's necklace. Everything that made me Jade Morrison was gone.
Maybe that was the point. Maybe they wanted to erase the old me so they could create someone new. Someone who fit in their perfect world.
The thought made me sick.
We landed as the sun was setting—morning in Seattle, evening in Switzerland. My body had no idea what time it was. Everything felt fuzzy and unreal.
Another black car was waiting. We drove through mountains and forests that looked like a postcard. Finally, we turned up a long driveway and I saw it.
Regency Academy.
It looked like a castle. Actual towers and everything. Behind the main building, more structures spread across the mountainside—probably dorms and other facilities. Lights glowed in hundreds of windows.
The car stopped in front of the main entrance. Students in expensive uniforms walked past, laughing and talking. They looked like they belonged in magazines.
I looked down at my ratty jeans and coffee-stained hoodie.
"Wait here," Agent Richardson said. "Someone will come get you for processing."
He left me alone in the car. I watched students pass by, none of them even glancing at the vehicle. Why would they? I was invisible. Just another nobody who didn't matter.
My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: "Miss Morrison. Please exit the vehicle and proceed to the main entrance."
I didn't move. If I got out of this car, this became real. I'd be officially trapped in a world I didn't understand, surrounded by people who would hate me for not belonging.
Another text: "Miss Morrison. You have thirty seconds to comply or we contact the authorities regarding your sister."
My hand was on the door handle when I saw him.
A boy—no, a young man—burst through the main entrance like the building was on fire. He looked frantic, his perfect hair messy, his tie loose. He was scanning the area desperately.
Our eyes met through the car window.
He froze. His expression shifted from panic to shock to something else I couldn't identify.
Then he started walking toward me. Fast.
Agent Richardson appeared from nowhere, blocking his path. They argued—I couldn't hear the words but the body language was clear. The boy was demanding something. Richardson was refusing.
The boy pulled out his phone and made a call. Said three words I could read on his lips: "Let her out."
Richardson's expression went from firm to furious. But he stepped aside.
The boy reached my car door and opened it himself.
"Jade Morrison?" His voice was rough, like he'd been running. His eyes were the brightest blue I'd ever seen—and they looked almost... guilty?
"Who's asking?"
"Someone who knows what they did to get you here." He held out his hand. "And I'm going to fix it."