Hunting The Princes Of Veridian Prep Chapter 2

My sister had always been fiercely protective of me.

She’d give me her favorite toys, her prettiest dresses.

When our parents divorced and fought over custody, it was Stella who clung to me, telling the judge she only wanted to be with her little sister.

Our parents saw me as a monster and openly despised me.

Because of Stella, Mom was forced to take us both when she remarried.

When my stepfather became abusive—the time he pinched my face and tried to hold me under the water in the laundry sink—it was Stella who launched herself at him to save me.

She paid for it, badly. He hit her face with a flurry of heavy blows. Her brow bone shattered, requiring a handful of stitches at the hospital.

Yet, she always remained relentlessly optimistic, even comforting me when she woke up.

“See? Your big sister is fine, right?”

“As long as my Queena isn't hurt. You’re my little sister, and it’s my job to protect you.”

The gentle touch on my hair was warm and comforting, yet I only tilted my head, confused. I never understood why she was so stubbornly determined to protect a monster like me.

On holidays, even in our cramped, run-down apartment, Stella would arrange a colorful spread of humble treats.

She’d place my favorites, peeled clementines and crisp, red apples, right on my bedside table. “Queena, it’s a holiday. Look what I bought! All your favorites.”

I opened the diary, and a sudden, inexplicable tear splashed onto the white page.

A strange emotion bloomed in my chest. A deep, hollow sensation, like something essential had been ripped away.

I went to the hospital to see Stella. She was pale, wearing a breathing mask, and hooked up to countless tubes—barely clinging to life.

I scoffed. “Stella Sullivan, you are such an idiot.”

She’d been accepted to the elite Veridian Prep on a full scholarship for her academic excellence.

Less than six months later, she was here.

The diary she left behind was missing many pages.

I flipped through, one by one. The last intact page was covered, front and back, in a single word—ESCAPE.

The handwriting was shaky, as if the author had used every last ounce of strength to write it.

Soon after, it was time for my entrance exams.

I scored the top result in the entire city and was granted a scholarship to Veridian Prep.

Veridian only accepted three scholarship students each year. The last was my sister. This time, it was me.