A Hurt So Sweet - Isabella Starling Page 0,3

fingers leave smudges on the frame, and I put it back down on the bedside table before grabbing the back and slamming it against the wood.

I smile to myself when I hear the satisfying crunch of glass.

At least I’ve put my mark on something in this place.

I pick up the notebook next. It’s filled with newsletter clippings, articles and daunting headlines.

Eden Falls was nothing but dirt thirty years ago. That is, until the founding families made it their home. Their last names ring out in my mind. Oakes. Booth. Brantley. Fox. Hawkins. Jenkins.

There’s one part of the manual that catches my interest, and it’s regarding the female Firstborns. I find out I have some importance in this town, but I will only be equal to the male Firstborns once I get married – and only if I’m a virgin until then. If I am not, I will lose all privileges, and the Firstborn status will go to the next in line. Brazen. My half-brother.

I furrow my brows. God, this town is so fucked up. I yawn, stretching myself as I keep reading the manual. I still haven’t found all the answers I need, but I’m getting tired.

The Firstborn’s names all blend together on the page. The rules, the stipulations, are all dancing in front of my eyes. My lids are heavy. My mind is full. I’m so exhausted from the long trip to Oakes Estate, I fall asleep in minutes.

***

My dreams are filled with distant memories of my past life.

My sister, Andromeda, my friends, Estella and Milo all intertwine in a confusing dream of times that have passed me by.

It’s been four years since I’ve seen them. Four years since I was forced to leave. Four years of being locked up in that boarding school. Milo and Stells are eighteen, nineteen now. My little sister is a year younger. And I’m almost eighteen… The number floats around in my dream, reminding me of my impending birthday.

I’d tried to contact my friends from St Cecile’s, but the school prohibited personal phones. It was like a fucking jail there. Not that Eden Falls is much better.

When I wake up, the sun is setting outside. I sit up on the bed, stretching and yawning. My dark maroon dress is creased from lying down, and a look in the mirror reveals I have a very serious case of bedhead. But there’s no time to worry – it’s already two minutes past seven, and I need to get downstairs for dinner.

This time, when I try the door handle, it’s unlocked.

I see the beautiful blonde girl on my way down, dusting a chest of drawers. She gives me a shy smile and bows but doesn’t address me. I keep walking until I reach the enormous dining room where a massive table that could easily fit twenty people beckons me, laden with delicious food.

My father, Emilian Oakes, is sitting at one end of the table. My stepmother, Bryony, flanks him on one side, the empty seat on his other side meant for me. I walk toward it, pulling out the chair and sitting down while my new family regards me in disbelief.

“Hi,” I say. “I’m so happy to see you. I hope we can get to know each other better.”

Nobody acknowledges what I’ve said. My sister glances at me with disinterest before returning to her meal, and Brazen doesn’t even lift his gaze from his plate.

“You’re late.” My father’s voice is icy, and as my eyes connect with his, I feel like I’ve committed the worst faux pas known to mankind.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, reaching for one of the salad bowls.

“Unacceptable,” my father goes on. “And you look like a goddamn mess, daughter.”

I’m not quite sure whether he’s joking. I am only five minutes late, anyway. But a look at my siblings and stepmother’s faces reveals this is more than serious. I’m in big trouble.

“Well I’m sorry,” I grimace. “By the by. Did you know the maid locked me in my room?”

“Of course,” my father replies with a seething glare. “Belle is under strict instructions to do that.”

“But why?” I argue. “Are you afraid I’m going to run away? I guess the only way to leave is to jump off the freaking cliffs.”

Their silence tells me everything I need to know. I know I’ve poked at old wounds, and I regret it, but only for a moment. I turn to face my father expectantly.

He clears his throat before setting down his napkin and saying, “The rules we