All Chapters of The Heiress Nobody Wanted : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Go with him," Mrs. Perez said, before Ariel could even ask."Mom, no...""Ariel." Her mother's voice was steady in a way it rarely was anymore, like she had been saving up strength for exactly this sentence. "You have spent years wanting a door like this to open. I won't watch you close it because of me.""You are the reason, Mom. If I leave, who's going to make sure you take your medication? Who's going to walk you to the clinic when your legs won't...""I'll manage." A flicker of the old stubbornness. "I managed for eighteen years before you were old enough to worry about me. I can manage a little longer."Ariel looked past her mother into the dim apartment, the peeling wallpaper, the secondhand furniture, the taped-up Harvard crest above her bed that she'd stared at every night for two years like a prayer. Then she looked at the black car idling at the curb, and the old man waiting beside it with the patience of someone who had clearly done this exact thing before, for some other l

For a moment, Ariel just stood in the doorway of the wrecked room, too tired to feel much of anything beyond the ache in her legs. Somewhere below her she could hear dishes being cleared, someone's low laughter, the ordinary sounds of a household settling in for the night, as if a girl hadn't just been handed a rulebook instead of a welcome.Mrs. Dalton appeared in the doorway behind them before Ariel could take in the wreckage of the room properly, her voice suddenly tight in a way it hadn't been downstairs, sharper, almost frightened."Nathan. This is a storage room. She can't stay here.""It's fine, Mrs. Dalton," Nathan said, unbothered, already turning to leave, keys still swinging carelessly from one finger. "Plenty of space once you clear a path to the bed. Assuming there is one under all that.""I said this isn't acceptable." Something in Mrs. Dalton's tone made even Nathan pause halfway down the hall. It wasn't the voice of a woman correcting a servant's oversight. It was clos

Ariel ran three blocks before she accepted that the black sedan carrying Britney to school wasn't going to slow down for her, no matter how loudly she called after it, her voice cracking a little on the second shout.She stopped at the fourth corner, hands on her knees, catching her breath in the cold morning air. She didn't even glance back, Ariel thought, and then, more coldly, watching the sedan shrink into traffic: Or she glanced back exactly once, made sure I saw her not stopping, and decided that was worth the detour.She checked her mother's old wristwatch, scratched, secondhand, nothing like the crisp new Crestmore uniform Mrs. Dalton's staff had delivered that morning. Eight forty-two. Class started at nine. She had no idea which direction the school was in.Everything here looked the same. Wide streets with no landmarks, manicured lawns indistinguishable from one another, houses larger than her entire old apartment building. Back home she'd known every crack in the sidewalk,

Ariel stood in the front hall holding the envelope with both hands. The paper had already gone warm from her grip. Mrs. Dalton watched her with a small expectant smile, the kind that assumed gratitude was the only possible answer. “I didn’t take any placement exam,” Ariel said again, quieter this time. Mrs. Dalton’s smile slipped. “Of course you did, dear. It’s right here.” “I spent that hour in the library. Mrs. Whitfield sent me there herself.” Ariel opened the envelope. Inside was a single sheet of Crestmore letterhead. Her name, Ariel Dalton, sat at the top in bold letters. Below it was a score so low it looked almost deliberate. Bottom fifteen percent. Recommendation: remedial track. Something cold settled behind her ribs. Mrs. Dalton leaned in to read over her shoulder. The color left her face. “That can’t be right. You answered every question in Biology yesterday.” “Someone took it for me,” Ariel said. Her voice stayed steady even though her pulse did not. “Or someone want

Ariel did not sleep well. The note stayed in her bag all night, folded twice and pressed flat against the inside pocket. Every time she closed her eyes she saw the four words again. Keep digging and you’ll regret it. By morning she had decided two things. She would not ignore the threat, and she would not let it stop her from asking questions.Theo was already at the usual corner when she reached the end of the driveway. He leaned against the silver sedan with two coffees balanced on the roof.“You’re early,” he said.“Couldn’t sleep.”He handed her a cup and opened the passenger door. “Get in. I’ll drive you the rest of the week if you want. No point walking when I pass this way anyway.”She hesitated only a second before climbing in. The car still smelled faintly of cedar and clean leather. Theo pulled away from the curb without asking questions about the dark circles under her eyes.They drove in silence for the first few minutes. Then he said, “You found something yesterday.”It wa