The Children's Home

Chapter 2: Lady Folman's Manor

TRIGGER WARNINGS: NONE

CWs: NONE

AN: Here's chapter 2! It's time for you to meet some of the other key players. I hope you enjoy! Also, I'm sorry for being late!

In mere seconds, we materialized in front of a stately, regal manor. It was enormous! The Victorian mansion was made of gray bricks with two, or maybe three, stories. Towering over me, it invoked a sense of awe. Compared to it, I was a teensy mite.

On the tallest pointed spire stood what appeared to be some sort of curlicue ornament. I craned my neck for a closer look, but to no success. Long, narrow glass windows covered the building. A chimney poked out from behind another spire. Pine trees surrounded the building.

"Surprised?" Harry, the second speaker, asked.

"Yes," I answered him, almost forgetting my accent. "I've never seen such a grand mansion!"

He chuckled. "There'll be finer sights on the inside, lass."

I nervously walked up the wooden steps. My accent sounded horrendous. I didn't know how to act properly. After all, I was a street kid. All it would take was one slip-up, and Lady Folman would know her henchmen got the wrong girl. Then what would happen to me?

I shouldn't be here.

But here I was. At least I hadn't blown it—yet. Harry knocked on the gleaming glass door. A fair-skinned girl in her early twenties with curly red hair styled in a messy French braid answered it. She wore a dark blue button-down blouse with a denim skirt that rose a couple of inches above her knee. When she noticed who was at the door, her brown eyes showed a flash of disappointment.

"Harry. Thomas. It's good to see you again," she said in a voice that meant the exact opposite of her words. Then she noticed me. "Who's this?"

"Agatha, this is Miss Nadia Blair. According to our information, she's a Pyrokinetic." Thomas slipped into more casual speech. "Be careful with 'er. She's a feisty one, she is. The lass gave us quite a lively chase."

"A Pyrokinetic?!" exclaimed Agatha. "Why, that's one of the rarest abilities! No wonder Lady Folman sent you to find her. Come in, Nadia—I don't believe in all this pomp and ceremony. My name's Agatha Mullins, by the way. I'm in charge of informing Lady Folman about any child that arrives at our doorstep. That means I must tell her about you."

She darted off into the house, her vivid red braid streaming out behind her like a flag in the wind. I couldn't see much—only a long hallway with some framed paintings. I stood there awkwardly, waiting for her to return. Harry seemed ready to leave me there. Thomas, on the other hand, wasn't so ready yet. He stuck his hands in and out of his pockets, checked his watch, and returned his hands to his pockets.

A few minutes later, she returned with a middle-aged, porcelain-skinned, blond-haired woman wearing a pompous hairstyle sprinkled with diamonds that must've taken hours to perfect, glittery blue eye shadow, bright red lipstick, and a lavish, ice-blue silk gown with spotless white ruffles on the puffed sleeves. I rolled my eyes. Her million-dollar outfit was simply ridiculous attire for a matron, no matter her title. Besides, it was extremely out of style.

Seriously, who did she think she was?

"Are you the Pyrokinetic I've just been told about?" she demanded, disgust evident in her voice.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, ma'am, I am."

I was a Pyrokinetic, thank goodness. I used my ability sparingly, but still, I had it.

At least I don't have to lie about that detail.

"Will you conduct a demonstration for us? Also, I am Lady Folman. You may refer to me as 'my lady'."

"Yes, ma—err, my lady."

Snapping my fingers, I willed a newly formed flame to dance on my hand. I did not flinch. Instead, I smirked.

Lady Folman stared. "I suppose you are worthy of staying at Lady Folman's Home for Gifted Children. Your roommate will be Winifred Jones, a Cryokinetic. Get to know her. Perhaps she may even teach you proper etiquette when dealing with nobility." Turning on her heel, she flounced off.

"Good riddance," muttered Agatha under her breath.

"I'm going to fetch Miss Jones," Harry told me. "Stay put, Miss Blair."

With that, Harry, who didn't seem very talkative, disappeared around a corner and soon returned with a girl of about thirteen.