Keane

Dense, eerie fog rolled over the top of the water, haunting the air with a brisk chill that wouldn’t seem to fade. I pulled my jacket tighter around my neck and shivered, the chill seeping deep into my bones.

“Oh, this must be it,” my mother said from her position next to me, popping up on her tiptoes as a small ferry boat pulled slowly up to the port, horn blaring. In the sky, thunder cracked, threatening an imminent storm. I shivered, clutching the single duffel bag I’d been allowed to pack close to my body. Back home, my stepfather was probably burning the rest of my belongings in a barrel. Everything. My whole life.

“Chin up,” Mother said, shooting a look at me as the boat docked. A shock of sudden fear slithered up my spine, and I took a single step back, all the hidden emotions I’d been shoving down rising to the surface. Three large, burly men stepped off the deck and onto the dock, spotting us a second before heading in our direction.

“Evelina Bloom?” the largest of the three men asked. Mother nodded, tilting her head at me.

“That’s her. My daughter.”

I expected the men to introduce themselves and explain what would happen next or something, but none of them did.

“Let’s go,” the second guy said to me. “They’re expecting you.”

Caught off guard, I turned to Mother, hoping I’d see something other than evident distaste on her face. But it was there. Still.

“You’ll visit?” I asked meekly, and Mother sniffed.

“I guess that depends on your behavior.”

“I want to go home,” I insisted, avoiding the intense gazes of the men in front of us. “You know I don’t need to go. I-I’m not a freak, and I’m not sick. I don’t belong at Blackwood Academy.”

“Jack says it’s a wonderful school,” Mother said haughtily. “An excellent substitute for a state college.”

“Then let me go to a real college, Mom. I don’t belong here, I’m telling you. Jack is wrong.”

“Enough chit-chat,” one of the men said, reaching out to take hold of my arm. His large, calloused hand felt like a metal vice around my arm, and I winced, pulling back, but he didn’t loosen his grip.

“Don’t make me go,” I begged as the second guy grabbed my duffel bag like a sack of trash. “I’ll apologize to Jack and Grant both. I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry.”

The chiseled frown on my mother’s face only tightened as she shot daggers at me with her eyes.

“Maybe this place will teach you not to cry wolf so often,” she said steadily. “Maybe it will teach you some respect.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks as I relented, falling limp as the asshole with his hand on my arm pulled me toward the boat. I didn’t feel like a student or even a patient. I felt like a fucking prisoner. This couldn’t be right, could it?

“You’re hurting me,” I cried, trying to wrench my arm out of the man’s grasp as he squeezed harder, pulling me after him onto the boat. It rocked beneath the waves, catching me off guard. I stumbled just as the man’s hand released my arm, falling hard onto the wooden deck with a yelp.

“Let’s go,” the big man called, stepping past me as though I wasn’t even there to signal at the captain. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I stood up, steadying myself on the railing. Blood from a scrape on the knee trickled down my leg, and my palms stung as I turned to check if my mother was still standing at the end of the dock.

No one was there. I was officially on my own.

“Come with me.” The second of the larger guys passed by and took my upper arm, though far more gently than the last one. I followed him willingly because I knew I had no choice. The ferry was already leaving the dock, and I knew we wouldn’t get to Blackwood for another half an hour or so.

The guard led me into the ferry’s cabin. It was warmer here, and that made it much easier to oblige. I was surprised, however, when the man sat me down on a bench seat and proceeded to cuff me.

“What the hell is this for?” I demanded, glowering at him as he secured the cuffs.

“Safety measure,” he grumbled.

“I’m not dangerous.”

“All of our residents go through the same. It’s protocol. Besides”—he glanced sideways at me with a mocking grin—“we wouldn’t want y’all to jump overboard now, would we?”

“And you think cuffing my hands is the answer?”

With a smirk, the guard undid one of the cuffs and then slapped it over a metal bar, pinning me in place.

“Just for you,” he said with a leering grin. “Welcome to Blackwood Academy.”