Kandace stepped into the foyer of Lilith House, glancing disinterestedly around. Stuffy. Expensive. She yawned. God, if one lavish hellhole had turned her into what she was, what made them think another was going to reform her?
What a joke.
The man who’d picked her up at the airport set her suitcase down and gave her a stiff nod. “Good luck, ma’am.”
“Catch ya later, Eddie.” She winked and took satisfaction from the blush that burned his ashen face. “Yes, ma’am.” He turned with an awkward shuffle and exited through the front door.
Kandace stood there for a moment, an unfamiliar feeling of doubt settling in her limbs. What the fuck was she supposed to do? Go looking for someone to greet her and tell her where she would be sleeping?
Her gaze moved over the wall to her right where a large crucifix hung next to the portrait of a severe-looking man. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment, the hairs on the back of her neck rising. She looked away, leaning slightly to the left so she could peer down the hallway beyond.
She cupped her hand over her mouth. “Helloooo,” she called. “Anybody home?” For several beats only silence filled the space, but then she heard the slow click of footsteps coming toward her on the polished wood floor.
For some unknown reason, nerves fluttered in Kandace’s stomach and she brought her hand to her midsection as though she could press it away. This place is fucking creepy, she thought.
A moment later a slender, older woman appeared in the doorway, stopping and perusing her slowly, a look of pure disdain on her pinched face. She was wearing black from head to toe—skirt, sweater, and shoes—but had a string of creamy white pearls around her long, pale neck. Her hair, a deep silver, was pulled up into a tight chignon and she didn’t appear to wear a stitch of makeup, her lips thin and bloodless, the only color in her face, her startling golden eyes, the color of which Kandace could see even from where she was standing. She moved forward slowly, and Kandace watched the woman who somehow seemed to both glide and move stiffly as though she was standing on a wheeled platform and someone had given her a push. “You must be Ms. Thompson. I’m Ms. Wykes, the headmistress of Lilith House.”
Kandace smirked and reached out her hand. “How do you do?” she said sarcastically.
Ms. Wykes tilted her head, her lips turning upward, though the rest of her face remained unchanged.
“Oh dear.” She clicked her tongue. “Insolent, aren’t you? No mind. We’ve dealt with worse than you here at Lilith House. You’ll be following rules like a good little girl before we all know it. Follow me now.” And with that, she turned, doing that stiff glide as her short heels clacked on the floor.
A good little girl? This bitch had to be kidding. Kandace had half a mind to turn on her tennis shoe and take her insolent behind right out of this weird-ass place. But there was the court order . . . and the fact that she’d basically burned every bridge she’d once had access to.
Nine months, she reminded herself. She just had to complete one semester of school here at Lilith House and then she could resume her life. This is your final chance, her mother had said. After this, there’ll be no more. And for whatever reason—instinct, the tone in her mother’s voice, pressure from Kandace’s new stepfather, or likely all of the above—Kandace knew her mother meant what she said.
Kandace followed Ms. Wykes through the foyer and down a long hallway beyond. The older woman disappeared through an open door and Kandace entered after her into what was a relatively large office, featuring a bay window that revealed a view of the forest behind the house. A tall, well-muscled brute of a man with a shaved head and a keloid scar running down his cheek stood next to an ornate mahogany desk, while Ms. Wykes stood in front of it, her hands clasped. Off to her right was a wall of built-in shelves filled with hardbacked books, and in the corner stood a black metal birdcage with two bluebirds perched on a branch that extended from one side of the cage to the other. In the midst of the heavy furnishings and almost-masculine feel of the space, the soft-colored winged creatures were especially lovely and an inexplicable mournfulness rose inside Kandace.
Lovely things are not meant to last here. Kandace’s expression twitched with the unsettling thought that seemed to come both from nowhere and everywhere around her like a whispering chorus of ghosts in the walls.
“Put your cell phone in that box,” Ms. Wykes instructed, pointing at a wooden box attached to the wall next to the door, a slot in its top.
“I prefer to keep my phone.”
“Your preferences are no longer relevant, Ms. Thompson. Put your phone in the box. Technology is a tool of the devil and we resist its temptation here at Lilith House. Your phone will be returned to you upon the completion of your term.”
A tool of the devil? What the fuck was this woman smoking? “What if I want to contact my parents?”
“We have paper and pens. I personally deliver the outgoing mail to the post office every third Monday of the month. In addition, I will be sending a bi-weekly update to your parents concerning your performance here at Lilith House.”
Paper and pens? Outgoing mail? Jesus. They may as well have shipped her back to the 1800s.
You can do it. It’s temporary. Who was she going to call anyway? Her service had gone out completely several miles up the road. Not only that, but because of that whole burnt bridges thing, she couldn’t think of one person who would miss her much. Aside from her dealer.
Kandace narrowed her eyes, hesitating, but finally pulling her phone from her pocket, turning it off, and dropping it in the box. She’d play the game—for now. It was always easier to break the rules if you were flying under the radar. And clearly they were big on rules here.
Ms. Wykes nodded to the burly man and he approached her, grabbing her arm as he used his other hand to pat her down. “Hey!” she yelled, attempting to twist out of his grasp, but he was far too strong to fight against. He pulled out the baggie of five joints and several ecstasy tablets she had in her pocket and tossed them backward onto the desk before releasing her. Kandace glared at him, straightening her clothes. Shit.
Ms. Wykes picked up the baggie, holding it up for a moment, and then placing it back on the edge of her desk without comment. “Sit down,” she said, indicating a chair in front of the desk. Kandace hesitated, glancing at the man who was watching her with a small smirk on his face, his arms now crossed over his square chest. Kandace’s gut gave a slow roll. Something felt very off. She sat in the chair, crossing her legs, as Ms. Wykes turned and walked to the birdcage, opening the tiny door and removing one of the bluebirds. It sat perched on her hand as she pet its shiny head slowly with one long-nailed, bony finger.
“Do you know the story of Lilith, Ms. Thompson?”
“Lilith? Lilith who? Never heard of her.”
Ms. Wykes gave her a small, cold smile. “I have never heard of her,” Ms. Wykes corrected. “We speak in full sentences here, Ms. Thompson.” She paused, running her finger over the bird’s head again. “I’m speaking of the original Lilith, of course. Adam’s first wife.” She sighed. “Regrettably, she was a sinful and assertive woman who didn’t understand her place, instead choosing to rebel against God and her husband.”
“Sounds like my kind of girl.”