Isabella pushed the door open. A cloud of dust hit her face, carrying the heavy stench of mold and decay. Moonlight spilled into the cramped space. It was barely two hundred square feet, with peeling paint and rotting furniture. Cobwebs clung to the corners, and roaches scurried across the floor.
She stood in the doorway, horrified. This was it? This was the backup plan Agnes had left her? Agnes had been the head maid of the Lancaster family for years, embezzling money the entire time. And all she had to show for it was this disgusting shack? Even if it wasn't a mansion, she expected at least a decent apartment. No human could live here!
Isabella wanted to scream, but the sound of a man coughing in the dark alley made her jump. She rushed inside and slammed the door shut, locking it tight. The confined space made the foul odor even worse. Using her phone's flashlight, she found the switch. A flickering bulb revealed the dismal room: a wobbly wooden table, a stained bed, and a broken wardrobe. Trash littered the floor.
She broke down, crying out in frustration, but the paper-thin walls forced her to muffle her sobs. She was terrified that a stranger might hear her and break in. The suppression only magnified her suffocating despair.
"I can't live here! I won't!" she whispered fiercely. "I'm a Lancaster! I'm a socialite! Why is this happening to me?"
Ignoring the grime, she sank to the floor, weeping until her tears ran dry.
The next few days were pure hell.
The only food in the wardrobe was a bag of stale cereal and some cheap canned soup. She didn't know how to cook or operate the rusted gas stove.
The first time she tried, she nearly burned the place down. She ended up softening dry pasta with rusty tap water, choking it down with a pinch of salt.
She threw up the first few bites. She had never eaten anything so vile in her life, but the dizzying hunger eventually forced her to scrape the bowl clean.
After a few days, she learned how to cook the noodles. The room wasz thick with dust, but she didn't know how to clean it, so she just tidied the bed slightly and spent her day huddled there.
days
Trapped in her dingy hideout, she listened to the neighbors screaming and children crying through the walls. She was losing her mind. And Worse, she still hadn't found the money Agnes promised.
As Isabella wallowed in misery, her phone buzzed. It was a group chat for Vaelion
City's elite socialites. Someone had tagged her.
[Isabella, are you back yet?]
[The Marington Elite Scholarship Gauntlet is starting soon. You're our department's star! Aren't you going to register?]
Isabella stared at the screen. She
hadn't dared to speak in the chat for days, terrified that the news of her exile from the Lancasters would leak if they knew she would be the laughingstock of the city.