Bellhollow Hall for Exceptional Adults
The name sounded important on paper.
"Exceptional adults."
As if putting us in a stone building with high towers and iron gates would make us anything more than scared kids with sealed fates and fading choices.
The transport dropped us off at the base of the main courtyard. Gray stone arches framed the path ahead, slick with rain from a night I hadn't slept through. The sky above Bellhollow was always gray, they said. Something about altitude and atmosphere. I wasn't so sure.
The building loomed in front of me, older than anything I'd seen back in Hollowridge. Ivy clung to the sides like it had never let go, and the windows, tall and pointed, reflected no light at all.
A chime rang out from the bell tower. One long, low note that seemed to hum through my chest. A warning. A welcome. I couldn't tell.
A woman in dark robes stood by the steps with a tablet in her hands and a hollow smile on her face.
"Name?" she asked without looking up.
"Eira Wynth," I said, trying to sound steady.
She tapped a few things, then frowned. "East Tower. Sublevel Three. Bookkeeping and Logistics."
Her eyes flicked up, just for a second. "You're paired with Corvin Hale."
Something in her voice shifted, just a breath, but enough to notice. Enough to make my stomach twist.
She handed me a packet. "Dorm key. Schedule. Orientation starts at second bell. Don't be late."
I took the folder, fingers already numb from cold or nerves, I couldn't tell which.
The stone path beneath my feet creaked as I walked toward the East Tower.
Sublevel Three.
Bookkeeping.
Corvin Hale.
And not one of those things felt even remotely safe.