Page 4 of Misconducts & Temptation

I moved cautiously towards the snake, its eyes watching me warily. It was a harmless garter snake, nothing to be afraid of.

“It’s not dangerous,” I said calmly as I crouched down. “It’s just a garter snake.”

“Get rid of it!” Stephanie shrieked again, her voice hitting a high pitch. “Kill it if you have to!”

Ignoring her frantic demands, I reached out slowly and carefully picked up the snake. It wriggled slightly but didn’t resist much as I cradled it in my hands.

Annabelle and Stephanie continued to scream and yell for me to dispose of it.

“Stop it!” Annabelle cried out. “Just throw it away!”

Instead of listening to them, I carried the snake gently to the edge of the yard where the woods began. There was a quiet patch under some bushes where it could safely slither away.

“It’s okay,” I whispered to the creature as I released it into the undergrowth. “You’re safe now.”

The snake disappeared into the brush without hesitation.

Turning back towards my stepsisters, who were still standing at a distance with looks of horror on their faces, I felt a small sense of triumph.

“Are you insane?” Stephanie spat out once she found her voice again. “That thing could have bitten you!”

I shrugged and wiped my hands on my skirt. “It didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

Annabelle shook her head in disbelief. “You’re so weird, Elodie.”

"Next time," I murmured. "I'll slip the snake into your bed while you're sleeping."

"What?" Stephanie shrieked.

I smiled sweetly. "Nothing."

They stomped inside. The slam of the door caused my lips to turn up.

Despite my stepfamily’s treatment, I held onto my ambition to succeed at Crestwood. The academy was my lifeline, the one thing that might offer an escape from this existence. Each day there was a reminder of what lay beyond these suffocating walls—a world of possibilities where I could forge my own path.

My mother always wanted that for me. I remember her voice, soft and full of dreams as she talked about the future. She died when I was too young to fully grasp the weight of her absence, but my father kept her memory alive through stories and mementos, including a dress she had worn to their engagement party. I kept it just in case I would ever attend an event that required such attire. Doubtful, considering, but still. Her old photographs, tucked away in a worn album under my bed, were a source of comfort on the darkest days.

But then Dad remarried, and those memories grew faint under the weight of new burdens.

I missed her so much it hurt sometimes. And Dad—I missed him too.

My chest squeezed with the familiar ache of longing as I glanced over to where I had released the snake. It had slithered away quickly, finding freedom in the underbrush. I envied it, wishing someone would come along and set me free from this life too.

The snake was gone now, disappearing into a world that didn’t chain it down with expectations or cruelty.

I shook off the thought and returned to pulling weeds, my fingers moving automatically through the dirt. The scholarship at Crestwood was more than just an opportunity; it was a promise—a chance to break free from the chains that bound me here. If I could just make it through another year, I might finally have a shot at living on my own terms.

I pulled another weed from the ground, tossing it aside with more force than necessary.One day, I promised myself,one day I'd find my own way out.

And when I did, I'd never look back.

Chapter 2

Keaton

Ileaned back in the leather chair, feeling the heavy weight of my father’s office in downtown Chicago. The walls were lined with dark wood paneling, heavy with the scent of old money and power. Expensive art pieces—soulless abstracts that screamedwealth—hung meticulously, each one chosen for its price tag rather than its beauty. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the cityscape, a sprawling testament to capitalism’s relentless march.

The desk in front of me was a monstrosity of mahogany, cluttered with paperwork, framed family photos that looked like stock images, and a crystal decanter filled with amber liquid. I bet it had been sitting there untouched for months. The whole place felt more like a mausoleum than an office, each item meticulously placed to project authority and control.

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