Winter’s eyes flutter open to a pounding on her door.
For a moment, she doesn’t recognize where she is.
The ceiling is unfamiliar, and so is the plush bedding beneath her.
But then her memories come rushing back, and she groans at how quickly her life has changed within a day.
Moaning, she rolls over and presses her hands to her eyes.
She hadn’t slept well because her mind couldn’t stop replaying Drae’s cryptic warning from the night before.
His words had haunted her, keeping her awake with fragmented dreams and a lingering headache.
The knock comes again, followed by her mother’s voice.
“Winter? Honey, are you awake?”
Winter tenses.
She had expected her mother to come by last night as promised, but instead, it had been Evelyn, the housekeeper, who checked in on her after the tense dinner.
Winter wonders if her mother forgot or just didn’t care.
Shaking off her irritation, Winter gets out of bed and opens the door.
Her mother brushes past her, settling on the edge of the bed.
“Morning, honey,” Sarah greets, ignoring Winter’s frown.
“How did you sleep?”
Winter tries to mask her irritation and forces a smile.
“I slept fine.”
“Good,” Sarah replies with a relieved nod.
“We’ll need to head out soon.”
“Out? For what?” Winter asks, sensing her mom is dodging the unspoken tension between them.
Winter had hoped things would be different now, that her mom would have more time for her, but it seems nothing has changed.
“Shopping, of course,” Sarah says, feigning enthusiasm.
“We need to get your Crestwood uniform, a new laptop, phone, and anything else you might need for school.”
“A new phone?” Winter asks, surprised.
She already has one, so why would she need another?
“You need a new phone for your new ID to fit in at school and in this neighborhood,” Sarah explains.
“A new ID?” Winter repeats, puzzled.
How would she get a new ID when her mom and Marcus aren’t even married yet?
“Marcus has connections. It’s already being arranged,” Sarah says, as if she’d read Winter’s thoughts.
“Once we’re married, it’ll be official,” she adds.
Winter feels stunned.
She knows Marcus is wealthy, but she hadn’t expected he’d be able to alter her identity so easily.
It isn’t like she dislikes it, but she isn’t in the headspace for it.
Not when what she really wants is an honest conversation with her mother without forced smiles and pretenses.
“Okay, Mom. Let me get ready. I’ll meet you downstairs,” she finally says, no longer wanting her mother in her space.
She wants time for herself before she’d have to pretend for most of the day.
Sarah gives an approving nod.
“Great. We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”
With that, she turns and leaves the room.
After a quick shower, Winter dresses in simple black jeans.
And after making sure she has her phone and ID with her, she reluctantly heads downstairs.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she spots her mom talking with Marcus near the door.
A slight headache begins to pound beneath her skull the moment she lays eyes on him, and she grimaces to keep herself from groaning.
“Ah, Winter,” Marcus says the moment he sees her approaching.
“I see you’re ready.”
Winter gives a small nod, feeling the headache intensify the closer she gets.
Marcus flicks his gaze briefly to Sarah before saying, “I’m heading out for the day. I trust your mother will take good care of you while I’m gone.”
Sarah smiles as she replies, “Of course, I will, honey. Have a great day, okay?”
“I will,” Marcus chuckles before kissing Sarah and walking out the door, climbing into the sleek black limousine waiting outside.
Winter’s headache begins to ease.
“Ready, sweetheart?” Sarah asks, drawing Winter’s attention back to her.
Winter nods silently, and they step outside, where a tall, muscular man stands by another limousine—likely part of Marcus’s security team or a new driver.
The driver opens the door, and Winter slips into the car, with Sarah following behind.
As they pull away, Sarah immediately begins texting someone, her focus already elsewhere.
The ride is quiet, and Winter stares out the window, lost in thought.
She tries to ignore the mix of feelings—about Drae, her mother’s aloofness, and the headaches that seem to appear whenever Marcus is near—and focus on how she is going to survive the day.
Soon, they arrive at the mall, a glass-walled complex lined with designer stores she has only seen on TV.
Staff greet them promptly, guiding them to the section for Crestwood Academy uniforms.
Winter follows her mom into a boutique filled with school clothes, though these are unlike any uniforms she expected.
Instead of plain skirts and blazers, there are custom-tailored jackets, pants, and accessories, like a high-end fashion store.
“Pick any combination you like,” Sarah says, gesturing to the racks.
“Crestwood encourages individuality within uniform guidelines.”
Winter’s head spins, but with help from a cheerful clerk, she eventually chooses a few items, trying to ignore how out of place she feels.
A clerk at the laptop counter begins asking her about academic needs, programs, and preferences.
Winter answers every question, and soon enough, a shiny new laptop is placed into a sleek black case, ready for her.
Next comes the phone.
Sarah excuses herself to use the restroom, leaving Winter alone in the phone section.
She scans the rows of devices, feeling out of place.
Not because she doesn’t know anything about phones, per se, because to be frank, she doesn’t know much.
High-tech devices weren’t an option for her even before her father died.
She feels out of place because this level of luxury and choice is new to her.
After a few moments of deliberation, she decides to go for the latest model of an S phone.
Just as she reaches for the model, a voice speaks up beside her.
“That one’s not right for you.”
Startled, Winter turns to see a boy standing right beside her.
She hadn’t noticed when he’d walked up to her, but she figures it was probably when she’d been trying to decide what phone to pick.
He is tall, with short silver hair—just like hers—and striking gray eyes.
He looks about her age or slightly older, but there is something oddly familiar about him.
A wave of images suddenly flashes behind her eyes, and Winter winces at the sharp pain it triggers.
She presses a hand to her temple to steady herself before croaking out, “Sorry, what did you say?”
The boy smiles and gestures to her hand again.
“I said, that phone’s not the right one for you. Trust me.”
Despite the pain behind her eyes and the questions in her mind as to why she’d had an episode because of him, Winter is curious to know more about the boy’s intention.
“How would you know?” she finally asks after a bit.
He points to her laptop case.
“I saw the laptop they chose for you. It’s a tier-one device used by upper-class high school students. The SWG restricts students in high school from accessing higher-tier devices for security reasons.”
He pauses before adding, “Besides, that phone,” he nods to the one in her hand, “is overrated.”
Winter can’t help but chuckle softly.
She is intrigued by how much he knows.
She hadn’t realized that device options are restricted for students in the upper class because, at Crossia, all middle-class students have access to only one brand of device.
“Okay, so what do you suggest?” she asks, deciding to humor him.
The boy scans the shelves for a moment before pulling a sleek, dark green phone from one of the upper rows.
“This one. It’s simple, fast, and dependable.”
Winter takes the phone from him and studies it, not missing the fact that the cover case of the phone matches the color of her eyes.
She smiles, pleased with the choice.
She looks up from the phone to ask him why he’d chosen this color for her, but freezes when she realizes the boy is no longer beside her.
He’s gone.