The car pulled up to the front of a large and cold looking school. The gothic architecture sent chills running down my spine as I pulled out my earbuds and looked up out of the dark glass of the sedan's backseat.

"Are you sure this is the place?" I looked at the driver, who I think was named Evan, and hoped and prayed that he got the address wrong.

"Sorry Miss, but the directions given to me by your father said Anthabask Academy. That's where we are." He exited the vehicle and made his way back to the trunk, removing my luggage from its compartment.

"Wonderful," I said under my breath, as I exited the backseat and pulled the hood of my black hoodie from underneath my leather jacket, throwing it over my head. I pushed back the strands of red hair that were left to hang in my face and put my head down against the chilling wind that swept the driveway.

This was exactly what I needed today. Of all the places I could end up after my mother's death, it was back in this god forsaken town of Meeds Hollow, Maine. My mother had been a lucky and unlucky woman. She was lucky that she escaped this bitterly cold place with her life, but her luck ran out when she had to escape this miserable town while being deemed a Wyndham-loving whore.

My mom was eighteen when she laid eyes on twenty-eight-year-old Killian Wyndham. I had always been told stories about how piercing his brown eyes were and the feelings she felt when they came to lock on to hers in passing. She always knew who Killian Wyndham was, who didn't? The Wyndham family was none other than one of two of the most powerful families to run the town of Meeds Hollow.

Old money was the ticket to power in the Wyndhams' eyes. In my mother's eyes, the ticket to her heart was the hidden sincerity in his harsh brown eyes when he looked at her face, or the hitch of his breath when he ran his fingers over her hand in passing. There was just one catch, because there always was. Killian Wyndham had everything he already wanted. He had a beautiful wife, with radiant strawberry blonde hair and gorgeous blue eyes. He just didn't have my mother, Claire, yet.

My grandparents warned my mother not to fancy Killian, not to give into his desires-but in Meeds Hollow, when Killian Wyndham wanted something, he simply took it. There were no stories about a whirlwind romance that consisted of him leaving his wife behind and running away with my mother hand in hand. There were also no stories about him secretly pining away for her for years, a victim of unrequited love.

The stories that forced her to run away in the middle of the night were simple. Man wants woman, woman gives herself to man. Afterwards, man throws woman out like the trash, into the bitter cold where she cries herself sick. When my mother found out that she was pregnant, she attempted to contact Killian, who spit in her face and called her a whore. It was simple. He never intended to love my mother, because he already loved his own beautiful and pregnant wife.

Before I could be born in Meeds Hollow and taken away from her by a vicious man clad in black, who managed the private security for the Wyndham Family, my mother left in the middle of the night. She caught a bus and made her way to a small farmhouse that belonged to an old friend.

That was where my story began... in Minnesota.

....................

The bitter chill of the wind snapped me out of my memory before it had taken me all the way forward in time. Forward to three weeks ago, when I walked in and found my mother's lifeless body on the floor of our small bathroom. Ruptured aortic aneurysm was the coroner's final diagnosis. It was also a diagnosis that landed me on the first bus to Maine after the funeral and into the hesitant arms of one Wyndham family.

Trust me when I said that if I had been eighteen, none of this would have happened. If I was eighteen, I would have been on the first plane to London and currently sitting drinking a Guinness in a local pub, surrounded by punk music. Nope, fate had to take my mom when I was seventeen and here I was. I was stuck in this bitter cold, in this bitter town.

I grabbed up my oversized duffle bag and slung it over my shoulder. I then clasped the handle of my rolling suitcase, which was stuffed to the brim with everything I owned. As I entered under the pointed arch, the gargoyle statues that I observed seemed to be following me with their eyes. It just kept getting better and better.

In the covered walkway, ravens perched in the eaves and pointed their heads down at me. Maybe they sensed my predicament and were offering me head bows as a means of sympathy. Maybe, they were also just trying to warn me. I wish someone had warned me of what was to come.

The cold wind escaped the outside and made its way through the walkway. My mother used to tell me that winters in upstate Maine were always brutal. Some years, the snow beat down on the town early in the season and some years, it was late to fall, just offering bone chilling breaths as a signal of what was to occur.

For the most part, Meeds Hollow, Maine, was like any other dark and twisted town tucked away in between massive forests of large trees. It was also exactly the same as those other small towns where there was absolutely nothing to do.

Meeds Hollow, was an extremely small town nestled about forty-five minutes away from Edmundston, Canada. It seemed like a whole different world up here. Most of the town's residents were staff at the Academy, with the exception of a few police, food, and essential places that were open in town. It was also nothing like Minnesota.

From what I could observe as I passed the throngs of bustling students that congregated in the main square, was that students at Anthabask Academy were just like any other students at an elite private boarding school. If you were here, it meant one of two things- either you were a legacy of a rich family or a troublemaker of a rich family looking to dump you somewhere.

Seeing as how I currently had seven dollars and a pack of tic tacs in my pocket, being rich wasn't my problem. Being a troublemaker, well, now we were talking.

"Excuse me, Miss." I had learned early on in my life that if you kept your head down, people viewed you as invisible. I liked being invisible.

"Miss!" A harsh hand grabbed at my jacket and spun me around, effectively throwing me off balance. My duffle bag thumped down upon me, while my legs decided that now was a good time to step backwards, tripping over my rolling suitcase.

Floor 1, Any shred of dignity 0.

"What the hell!" I looked up at my attacker, shooting her a really nasty snarl and squinty eye.

"Miss Grey, I presume?" She had a kind face and at any other time when I wasn't sitting on the ice covered ground, I would have at least attempted to be kind. Today wasn't that day though and my butt was currently getting frostbite.

"Yep, you got it. I'm Grey, and my ass is cold. So, are you going to help me up or stand and stare?" She offered out her hand and helped hoist me up. I brushed off the small hints of ice that had begun to stick to my ripped jeans and stamped my army boot clad feet on the ground. I hoisted my duffle back up to my shoulder and stood looking at her.

"Well, now that we have the pleasantries out of the way. I am Mrs. Collins and here is your packet. In it you will find your room assignment, room key, ID and lunch card, along with a thoroughly detailed map and informational packet."

I took the packet from her after I had dropped my duffle once more to the ground and pulled open the map looking for the dorms. When I had the information I wanted, I folded the packet and tucked it into the back of my jean's waistband.

"Great! So, no balloons or streamers in this welcome party? Pity, I was just starting to like it here," I sarcastically commented, as I gave her a slight smirk and proceeded to grab up my bags again.

Mrs. Collins let out one huff of disgust and turned back towards the main hall, probably to throw darts at whatever pictures could dig up of me.

..................

About twenty minutes later, I had successfully navigated the dorm hall and found my room on the top floor. The stairs to the hall were a hassle, but it was better than riding the whole way up the elevator with a freshman couple who were intent on using that private time to check each other's tonsils with their tongues.

I dropped my stuff in front of the large oak door with the number 507 in metal numbers on it. I slipped my key in the lock and opened it to reveal a pretty spacious, albeit very girly looking two person suite. I knew I should have begged my new father for a single.

I pulled my suitcases into the room and threw my duffle on the empty bed. Intent on counteracting some of the negative vibes that came with all things pink, which half of my new room currently was, I threw open my duffle and pulled out my stack of folded Ramones and Dead Kennedy posters and began taping them to the wall.

At least my new found father had fulfilled my request for black bedding, which was currently sitting on top of the unmade bed, still in its original package. I lined my desk with some of the pictures I had lugged along of my mother and me. Along with pictures of my dog that I had to leave behind with a neighbor and pictures of the couple of friends I cared to make while growing up.

Luckily, some of my stuff had been shipped beforehand and my heart warmed when I saw my electric guitar case sitting in the corner of my new dorm room, next to my small speaker. I ran my hand over the sticker plastered case and ever so slightly opened it to reveal my baby.

Ness stared up at me with his beautiful raven black body. Ness was a sexy and rugged pitch black Fender Stratocaster with a to die for maple fretboard. I had saved three summers working at Max's Pizza running deliveries to afford this cherry of a piece.

Ness was an extension of me and I felt lost the whole trip without his case under my feet. My dream was to one day play the seedy bars of London, in the rawest punk band I could work my way into. Good grades would just be my stepping stone to the life I always wanted. A ticket to a standard and boring 9 to 5 job, so that I could always do what I loved in my spare time and that was to play music.

I must have gotten lost in the love affair I was currently in with Ness, because I didn't hear the door to the room open. In walked a perky strawberry blonde girl around my age, wearing a pair of expensive jeans, and a pink cashmere sweater, complete with a matching cashmere scarf. Her hair was perfectly curled, her makeup subtle and pink, unlike my harsh black eyeliner.

Everything about this girl screamed Daddy's perfect angel, right down to her Louboutins.

"Hi there. I'm Lizbeth. You must be my half sister, Talia."

And with that, my day just kept getting better and better.... cue the sarcasm.

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A/N: Hey guys!

Hope you liked the first chapter. Please vote and comment, I love interacting with everyone.

So question time: How would you feel if you were suddenly thrown into a new life with a new perfect sister?

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Love,

Amina