❝She's one of those girls you just can't walk away from. One of those girls you will never forget, no matter how hard you might try.❞
BOOK ONE OF THE SCARLETT CHRONICLES |
After being kidnapped as a young child, seventeen year old Scarlett Grey is...
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THE NEXT THREE months of my new life entailed long days of acclimating into high society.
In the beginning, my parents tried to help, they really did.
The first two weeks, my father came home early from work every night to have dinner with his wife and daughter. But after I adjusted to my routine, he started coming home later and later, until it was just my mother and myself at the massive dining table.
And my mother tried too, helping me with my studies and trying to instil me with the poise and manners of a proper lady. That is, until she told me she'd have to return to her philanthropic duties that had fallen hopelessly behind.
So I was left with half a dozen private tutors to keep me occupied. And they did a good job, especially when they realized I caught on quicker than your average seventeen year old with the educational experience of a pre-schooler.
One afternoon, after a month and a half, I tested at a level concurrent with a freshman in high school.
"I'm quite surprised Miss. Grey," stated one of my English tutors, Ms. Lamen. She was a harsh looking woman with greying hair she kept tied up in a tight bun and who was never seen in anything less than a power suit. "You managed to write a fairly decent essay and referenced a novel you'd read last week. How on earth did you remember those quotations?"
I shrugged. "I just close my eyes and see the pages. It's not hard."
She looked at me like I was a nut case. We didn't get along well; she treated me much like you'd treat an infant, but she was a smart woman. Aside from the fact she thought I made up the whole "kidnapped when I was six and held captive for ten years" story because my parents didn't give me what I wanted.
And she thinks I'm the crazy one...
"So you're saying you think you have a photographic memory?" She glared at me incredulously. "I highly doubt that, Miss. Grey. I've been a woman of academia for longer than you've been alive, and never have I had a student with such a preposterous thing."
Safe to say I went to my mother that night and informed her of Ms. Lamen's theories.
The next afternoon I was introduced to Miss. Gilbert, a young brunette woman with big bright eyes and a pretty smile. She did a couple of exercises to test my memory and explained to me how a photographic memory worked, because that was exactly what I had.
