0 | prologue

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I'd pushed too far this time. The boundaries had been broken, and this time, perhaps, they were damaged beyond repair.

My father looked exhausted as he rubbed his tanned temple, eyes closed, shoulders slumped. His right hand held the letter, scrunched and creased in his ever-tightening grip. He looked up momentarily as my other dad walked into the room, collapsing on the couch beside him and shaking his head. He, too, looked defeated. I swallowed, feeling unusually nervous and disappointed in myself. They'd always tried as hard as possible to give me the best life they could. They wanted more than anything for my brother and I to be happy. But as I said, I'd pushed too far this time; I'd pushed them away.

"Evelyn," my dad began. Oh dear, using my full name was never a good sign. "You barely made it through three months at this one. This just isn't working anymore."

I furrowed my brow. "Most of the time I was provoked. Do you honestly expect me to sit there and take all the shit that gets thrown my way?"

"Language," my other father, Christopher, sighed, lifting his head slightly to look at me for the first time this evening. "Evie, we can't keep sending you to school and getting letters and phone calls everyday that you've been fighting or wreaking havoc. It's not fair on us and it's not fair on the school." I rolled my eyes. Like the school gave a shit. "It's your final year of school, you really need to focus now. One of my work friends was having trouble with his daughter a few years back. She was the same age as you at the time, and was behaving in exactly the same way. He and his wife found this school that really seems to help kids like you. It's a boarding school, in Devon."

"Devon?" I questioned. "Where the hell is that?" Wherever its location, it sure as shit sounded boring.

Christopher chewed on the corner of his bottom lip, a slight angst creeping over his expression. "It's in the countryside, in England." He spoke the last two words a little softer than the others, as though he hoped they would slip right past my ears, and they almost did.

My face fell for just a moment before I regained my composure and learnt backwards in my chair, folding my legs. "Sure, well I bet you'll have a hell of a time there, dad. I'll be waiting on a postcard," I smiled, my tone cool and sarcastic, despite my hammering heartbeat beneath my rib cage.

Another sigh, this one from Tommy. "Evie, we've spoken to the school and they are more than happy to take you. You'll start the semester in September and you'll stay for the year. I'm sorry, but this is non-negotiable."

I gritted my teeth, jaw clenched. I could feel the white-hot fury gushing through my veins as though the dam had just broken and everything was escaping at rapid speed. They were sending me away. My own parents were sending me to another country for a year. Was I even that bad? Did I really, truly deserve this? I'd fought, I'd smoked, gotten into trouble and given my dads a permanent headache, but was it ever okay to abandon your child? I'd been abandoned once before, and now it was happening all over again.

"You can't force me," I managed to respond through gritted teeth, my fists clenched in my lap. I could feel my own fingernails cutting into my skin, but I didn't care. "What are you going to do, drag me to England by the scruff of my neck? I'm not a fucking child."

"You can make this easy on us and yourself, or you can make it very difficult. Either way, you're going. We're taking you over a week before the semester starts at the end of August, just so you can get yourself acquainted with the place."

I shook my head, my eyes darting about the floor, blinking back the stinging tears that blurred my vision. I couldn't cry in front of anyone. It made me weak, and I wouldn't ever do it. My fathers had always tried to convince me that it was okay to cry, but even when I was hurting the most, I never let a single drop of salty water fall from my eyes. I couldn't let myself stoop that low.

"Evie," came a small voice from the doorway. I didn't lift my head, for fear that my tears would show, but I knew who the timid voice belonged to. My little brother Owen made his way a little further into the room as I listened to his footsteps nearing. "Please do this. I don't want you be naughty anymore. It makes me sad when you get into trouble." I could hear the quivers in his voice, and it almost broke me in two.

A minute passed in silence, and It was deafening.

Was hurting my family easier than moving away to start a different life for a year? No, it really wasn't. Nothing could match the unique pain of knowing just how disappointed you'd made the ones you love. Nothing at all.

"Okay," I said at last, my voice croaky and hoarse. "I'll go. I'll try it, I'll really try. But if I hate it after the first semester, can I please come home?"

I watched as relief washed through the eyes of my parents. My dad breathed a slow sigh before nodding his head. "Okay, kid. But please, promise us that you'll give this a real shot."

I bit my lip, staring at the ground before lifting my head and meeting their gaze. "I promise."

And that was the promise that changed my life.

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