(prologue)

IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT. Dazzling stars hid among the misty clouds, visible only as tiny dots in the endless nebula. A stray plane, somewhat evident from the lands below bolted through the clouds, breaking the eerie silence of the dark night.

Inside the plane, it was another story.

Livia Wong has many words to describe her heart- ugly, wretched, broken, shattered, ruined- but few to describe what she felt as she stared out of the window. Her sister, Pamela, sat across the corridor, her mother in front of her and her father in front of Pam. First-class, as usual, one of the good things about being the daughter of rich businessmen. The second, ostensibly no problem envisioning her future. Since she became a teenager, her future was set. Livia didn't complain, she likes the job. Well, as much as she could- she's sure she'll able to fit some time to write her stories, right?

And of course, like every other teenager there is, Livia writes. Though, she's got help,
But none of that mattered anymore.

It's not that she hated England. After all, she lived there for more than ten years of her life. She likes the place, it's the memories and people she doesn't like.

Every person's life is a story. Some people more chapters, some people less. Livia's life was divided into many chapters for one as young as her. The prologue ended when she moved to England because of her father's work, the first chapter ended the day she turned twelve, the second chapter ended the day she left for Shanghai once again with nothing but hatred and raw anger, uncontrolled and unchecked.

No one understood because she didn't tell anyone. No one would understand anyway. Livia Wong had a habit of holding the entire sky by herself, a willing Atlas. It was hardwired into her brain, to always put herself second and others first. And she had learnt her lesson the hard way. When the Grim Reaper came knocking on her best friend's door.

Everyone else on the flight was asleep. Soft snoring sounded, the sound a nuisance to her ear. Staring out into the sky, imagining the cold, fresh air freezing against her skin- though she might die from it. Livia had never been that good with cold, thanks, nose allergies, but that wasn't why she couldn't sleep that night. Briarville was a wonderful place: sprawling hills and luxurious mansions most could only dream of stepping foot in. Livia knew she should be grateful for all she had, but she couldn't. Fifteen-year-old Livia hadn't been aware of the price she would have to pay for this seamless perfection.

Now she was.

She didn't want to go back. Practically begged her father, even more than Pamela ("So I won't be able to shop at Xiatan anymore? Are you kidding me?"). Her father didn't question her motives, didn't have to. The man explained that sometimes, she had to face her nightmares head-on, and she didn't have much of a choice unless she wanted to stay with her uncle. While she might have accepted, her uncle's daughter Remiel was studying in America and he lived all the way in Beijing. No thank you.

So Livia had agreed. Didn't say much when they reapplied to her school, didn't show her frustration when she was accepted, didn't shed a tear when her parents bought the exact same mansion as they lived in before. But now that she was less than a few hours away from landing, she wasn't so sure anymore. Did she have much of a choice, though? It was much too late to turn back. Clenching her fists before haltingly releasing, her hands caressing the mark left on her palm, Livia felt the same sense of helplessness she felt when Melody died.

Melody Martinez, caramel skin, dark locks reaching her shoulders and a smile that lit up every room she had ever walked in. Her best friend ever since they met when they were six. While Livia had other friends, there were none she could dub as close to her as Melody ever was. Until that was, she got ran over by a car after a particularly heated argument with one of Livia's other former friends, James McHill. While still alive, to her, he might as well be six feet under.

James and his twin, Jack, lived at the end of the street from Livia, along with their three other siblings and their aunt. Their parents, Connor and Alicia McHill, were powerhouses in the fashion industry, and absolute workaholics who were barely home. The twins were a vital part of Livia's old friend group and considerably the closest with her after Melody. Brie, Sarah and Ian came next. Among them all, she had only kept in contact with Brie and Ian. Sarah never responded to her calls, and talking to Jack felt too much like talking to James. She couldn't do it, being the coward she was. Despite all her talk and bravado, Livia Wong was fragile at heart- and it had already been cracked too many times.

Livia Wong isn't the same girl she was at 15. Back then, Livia had been more smiles, less frowns. Still the sterner, more disciplined one among her friends, but happy. Back then, she had a love for the colour green- something she got over and somehow passed down to her sister. Back then, Livia had been jokes and humorous sarcasm.

The new Livia had a heart carved out of stone, unmoving. Barely any emotions are shown, except the occasional snarl and look of disapproval. The new her preferred more proper clothing- formal and colourless.

The new Livia was brutal honesty, backhanded compliments and a soul too complicated to understand. So many people tried, so many people failed. Then, they gave up and forgot that they tried to unravel her in first place. This was the way everything went in the world. A few months after Melody died, almost no one mentioned her anymore. When Shekinah Alba, the famous movie star who resided down the street died three years ago, no one remembered her after a week. Livia was used to knowing that no matter how hard someone tried, they'll never leave a mark in history.

Walking out of the Briarville airport, soaking in the fresh winter air, Livia wondered how long it would take for her to get used to the cold again. Her father had chosen the few days after Chinese New Year to leave for England, and Shanghai was nowhere as cold as Briarville was. It was a winter wonderland, but the price Livia had to pay with her nose allergies is less than satisfactory. The snow hadn't started yet, and it probably wouldn't until a few weeks later. Livia's father had already arranged for a driver to pick them up, so there was no hassle as they got into the car with their many pieces of luggage. Livia liked to think of them as her emotional carriage.

She liked Briarville. There was no reason for her not to. Sprawling plains and acres and acres of wood, streams and the lake in the middle of the city that had attracted the wealthy to the area in the first place. The richest resided near the lake, and her family was among them. Briarville was a heaven upon Earth, offering the same tranquillity she had only ever felt whenever she visited her uncle's Chongming manor. The sole difference was that while Chongming was literally in the middle of nowhere, Briarville was not.

Their house had been rebought furnished. According to the agent, the Wongs simply had an eye too good for furniture that it was a waste to throw anything out. No one had moved in or even showed interest in the mansion in the past two years, so it was exactly the same as they had left it. Maybe they recognised the nightmares that haunted the mansion too.

Livia felt almost numb as she stared at the mansion. Three floors, white stone with a marble theme, she had spent almost all of her life here. A chilling wind rattled her to the bone, though not necessarily because of the cold. Sucking in some of the cool air, Livia moved to help her parents unload.

The household staff wouldn't arrive until tomorrow. A cook and three maids. For now, though, they simply hauled the suitcases into their respective rooms. Thumbing the birch door, Livia nimbly pushed it open. The exact same as she had left it, staring off into the reflective lake.

Managing a small smile, Livia opened her suitcases and begun to hang up her clothes back inside her closet. The other furniture needed some cleaning, but she was too lazy for that, and the maids, Emma, Greta and Isabela, were there for a reason. The family hardly needed anyone to help them with their daily life, it's the cleaning part they're worried about. Too many rooms, her mother had once whined when all three went on vacation, why on earth does a family of four need a house with so many rooms?

While her father had grown up in a high-class family, his work a family business, her mother had grown up rather poor. Through her hard work, her mother had managed to secure a good job at a partnering company of her father's, and the rest was history.

"We're heading out for dinner tonight."

Spinning around, Livia found herself face to face with her sister, in all her immaculate glory. Pamela Wong had always been the more beautiful of the two. While Livia was one of the girls you'd see on the street and find pretty but forget about a bit later, Pamela had the face of a supermodel and fierce beauty, the stranger you'd turn to catch a few more glimpses of in awe. Pam was interested in being an actress- and Livia had joked on more than one occasion that her sister could play her novels' characters in the future if they ever got a movie adaptation.

"Where else would we get dinner?" Livia pinned her sister with a cold stare. "The nearest supermarket is at the mall, and I highly doubt any of us is in the mood to cook right now."

Pamela shrugged. "We're eating at the Olive Grove. Dad already got a reservation."

Trust their parents to always plan one step ahead for everything. Something both daughters were taught.

"Let me guess, you're getting your steak again?"

Pamela gave her a bored look. "Duh, and I'm guessing you're eating your truffle spaghetti again? Or carbonara?"

"Truffle. I miss the shit they cook," Livia muttered. "Now get out of my room, Pammy. I have to unpack."

Her sister mumbled something about grumpy bitches and left the room. A moment later, Livia heard the door of Pamela's room slam shut. Neither of the sisters was particularly in a good mood that day. A long flight did that to someone. Humming under her breath, Livia wrapped her fingers around the volume of books she had brought with her.

Her shelf had been moved out, but she had always meant to replace it anyways. Still, Livia placed it on her desk, staring at the gigantic mess that was still in her suitcase. One thing she did clean, in her room, however, was her bed. Throwing the sheets down the stairs as it landed on the couch with a thud, followed by her parent's screams, Livia speedily replaced them with her black-and-white blankets and comforters, before flinging herself on it. Gosh, she missed this damn thing.

Staring at the ceiling like she had done a thousand times before, taking in the chilling silence only ever broken by her sister's occasional frustrated groan, Livia had never felt so alone.

And she didn't like the feeling one bit.