Page 5 of A Touch of Darkness

She hums in agreement. “I doubt it. But if the food’s picked over, we’ll survive on whatever’s left. I’d take soggy pizza at this point. I’m bordering on starving.”

I can’t help a chuckle. “Let’s not aim too high, right?”

Lara crosses the room and pulls me toward the door. It’s a comforting routine—us heading out together, sharing the day’s ups and downs. We’ve always been close, but living here at Blackthorne feels like a new chapter in our lives. There’s a sense of excitement buzzing just beneath my tiredness, like we’re finally where we’re meant to be.

We stepout of our room, and the first thing that hits me is the grand architecture. I don’t think I’ll ever fully get used to how different this place is from our dingy public high school back in Chicago. As we walk, the hallway stretches before us like something from a medieval castle—high-arched ceilings, tall windows that let in the last slivers of evening light, and dark wooden doors spaced out along the stone walls. The floor is polished to a reflective sheen, and my boots squeak faintly as I walk, reminding me how new this all is.

Lara glances around, her ponytail swishing at her back as she takes everything in. Neither of us speak for a moment. Everything feels too overwhelming.

Blackthorne might be our new school, but it feels more like a Gothic mansion, complete with hidden alcoves and narrow, twisting corridors that I’m pretty sure I’d get lost in if not for the signs posted at every turn.

Well, I did get lost today—at least twice. But it wasn’t as bad as it could be, and the signs helped me right myself fairly quickly.

A group of what look like upperclassmen brush past us, their voices echoing against the vaulted ceiling. They’re carrying heavy textbooks pressed to their chests, some of them complaining about reading loads, others laughing about jokes we’re not privy to. The air buzzes with energy, a tangible hum of anticipation and fatigue after the first full day of classes.

Up ahead, the wide spiral staircase unfurls like a giant snail shell, its banister carved from cold, smooth stone. A few tarnished sconces line the walls, flickering with electric bulbs designed to look like candles. Shadows dance across the stairs, giving them a slightly eerie vibe, and I’m half-convinced they might lead to some secret dungeon if I take a wrong turn.

We join the stream of students descending the spiral stairs, the murmurs of conversation overlapping into a comforting white noise. From somewhere below comes the faint clatter of dishes and the smell of roasted chicken—sure signs that dinner’s well underway.

Lara leans in closer to be heard over the chatter. “So,” she says, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial half-whisper, “give me the rundown on your day. Any professors seem demanding or, preferably, easygoing? Or do they all just look like they’re plotting to bury us in reading material?”

I snort at the question, trailing my fingers along the banister as we circle downward. “A bit of both, honestly. There was one professor that felt super intense. She told us to expectweekly essay assignments, plus a massive research paper around midterms.”

Lara’s eyes widen, and in the dim light of the corridor, they seem a deeper brown than usual. “Sounds daunting. But you’ve always been good at writing. I bet you’ll blow that class out of the water.”

A small flutter of relief flickers through my chest. Her faith in me makes the workload feel a bit less intimidating. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I say, letting my hand drift away from the banister. “What about you? Anything crazy happen?”

A playful grin spreads across Lara’s face. “I think I might be in love with a dude in my Philosophy 101 class. He walked in late and looked a little lost. But, oh my God, Sylv, his eyes really are the most beautiful hazel green. I could legit get lost in them.”

Lara practically swoons and I laugh at her ability tofall in loveon the first day.

She isn’t kidding, either. As serious as a heart attack.

We reach the final bend of the spiral staircase, passing an antique tapestry depicting some old family crest—probably a relic from whatever lord or lady once owned this massive place. I can’t help but glance at it, marveling at the intricate threadwork, before focusing back on Lara. “Only you would fixate on eye color on the first day instead of the reading assignments,” I tease.

“Hey, I can multitask,” she shoots back with mock indignation, though her smile tells me she’s loving every minute of it. “Besides, at least it adds a little excitement to the endless lecture notes.”

I roll my eyes but laugh, appreciating her ability to find fun in practically any situation. We follow the corridor on the first floor, which is lined with stained-glass windows set in the stone walls. The colored panes cast jewel-toned beams across the floor—deep reds, blues, and greens that shift with the last rays ofthe setting sun. It feels like we’re in some sort of enchanted hallway out of a fairy tale, especially with the way it feels like this place is fully alive. I can’t put my finger on it. It’s just…a feeling. Students meander around us, chatting about everything from the cafeteria food to some sporting event and a bonfire this weekend. A few wave or nod, everyone still in the early stages of forging friendships.

Finally, Lara pushes open a pair of heavy wooden doors that lead us to the dining hall. A wave of warm air greets us, carrying the aroma of roasted chicken, fresh bread, and something sweet—maybe pie or dessert pastries.

“My God, that smells amazing,” I say, my stomach rumbling in response.

Lara nods. “Think they’ll have any of that soup left? It smelled so good at lunchtime.”

“One can only hope,” I say, scanning the buffet setup. Rows of steaming trays line the back wall, and clusters of students hover nearby, grabbing plates and exchanging small talk. The medieval ambiance continues here: vaulted ceilings, more stained glass, and opulent chandeliers that cast a soft glow over the long wooden tables. The photos online seriously don’t do this place justice—at all.

I spot an empty table near a tall, narrow window and gesture toward it. “Let’s grab dinner, then snag that spot before someone else does.”

“Perfect,” Lara says. “Ooh! Let’s keep an eye out for your new mystery man you saw yesterday, just in case he’s around. Did you see him at all today?”

“So funny, Lar,” I retort, rolling my eyes good-naturedly. But inside, I’m glad she’s relaxed enough to joke around. Despite the imposing architecture, the substantial schedule, and the pressure we’ve both been feeling, there’s a warmth to being heretogether—like we’re on the cusp of something great. Like we have a chance to be close to our parents again.

Lara and I have claimed a small table near one of the tall, arched windows, our trays in front of us. Outside, a dusky twilight settles over the expansive Blackthorne grounds. Inside, the air continues to vibrate with overlapping voices.

“Somehow, I’m still so hungry,” I admit, eyeing my plate of half-eaten mashed potatoes and chicken. “I swear I had a decent lunch, but I feel like I could eat all of this easily.”

Lara chuckles, pushing a few stray dark hairs behind her ear. “You’d better pace yourself. We still have to survive the rest of the semester, and I hear the dessert bar can be dangerous to one’s figure.”

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