Page 121 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

“But there’s always enough coal to stay warm.”

I guess she picks up on my mood, because Juliet doesn’t say anything else until we hit a set of tall, iron gates.

There’s a crest in the middle—a rearing stag with enormous horns surrounded by ornate scrollwork.

CINDERHART

WE LIGHT THE FIRE

“What does that mean?”

Juliet shrugs as she waves at the guard emerging from his outpost. He glances at her, gives me a sour look, and goes back inside to open the gate. “Coal, fire. We used to produce a whackload of the stuff back in the day.”

The dirt road changes into a rutted path that winds through thick foliage. What happens when there’s another car heading in the opposite direction? There’s no space for someone to overtake.

“Are you ready?” Juliet asks.

It’s late afternoon, and I left the city hours ago. I’m beyond tired—not just from the drive, but because of all the new shit and uncertainty my mind’s been exposed to. So no, I’mnotready...but what choice do I have, right?

“Sure,” I murmur, wringing my hands in my lap as Juliet guides her truck down the path.

“There it is,” she says, a few minutes later.

The trees start thinning. The rutted dirt road becomes a gravel drive. And then it’s like I blinked and was transported to a castle in Transylvania.

The dark walls are lined with pointed arched windows and a highly ornamental facade.

It even has motherfucking gargoyles.Except these aren’t the usual scary-looking monsters…they’re fierce stags rearing from the stone. I lift my phone and open my camera app.

Juliet snaps her fingers and points at my phone. “Oh, sherbet, I completely forgot. You’re not allowed to take photos.”

“Sorry, what?”

She points at my phone. “No photos. It’s kind of a big deal. You could get expelled if someone catches you.”

“But I can keep my phone, right?”

“Oh yeah.” She rolls her eyes. “We’re not savages.”

Just incredibly secretive. No wonder I couldn’t find anything on the internet. I’m starting to understand why my parentswould have driven two hours to get to their reunion. This place is...transcendent. I feel like a time traveler. I expect to see someone in one of those low-cut colonial-style dresses with their boobs popping out coming to greet us.

Or a guy in a top hat and tails.

Juliet parks in the roundabout near the entrance. “Don’t worry about your stuff, it’ll find its way to your room.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“Come on, Romi is waiting for you.”

Romi?

I climb out of the car, pulling at the hem of my top. I had no idea what to wear, but I treat fashion like I would a menu at a fancy restaurant. If I don’t know what it is, I don’t order it.

That’s why my wardrobe consists of black and white. I know I end up looking like a penguin most of the time—black bottoms, black jacket, white shirt—but I don’t really have the attention span to put together interesting outfits.

A pewter double door swings open, breaking a line down the middle of the Cinderhart crest molded onto its surface. A girl close to my age steps out, giving me a hesitant smile when she spots me.

“Nim?”

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