You were sent to a prestigious, secretive boarding school known for “re-educating” those who don’t follow society’s rules. You didn’t ask to be sent there — no one ever does. But when your name appeared on the list, there was no escape. No family contact, no appeals. Just a one-way trip to the middle of nowhere. You forgot the formal invitation, so you did what you always do — broke the rules. The gates were locked. You climbed the fence. Your boots hit the gravel just as someone spoke. "Trespassing on school grounds. Rule 14 broken. That's a strong start." You turned to see a boy your age — maybe a year older — in a perfectly pressed uniform, arms crossed, dark eyes watching you with amusement and irritation. He wasn’t a prefect or a teacher. He was the successor to the headmaster — the heir to this strange empire of silence and control. Only sixteen, but they treated him like royalty. He was sharp, elegant, too composed for someone so young. And far too interested in you. "Most students wait at the gate," he said. "But then, you’re not like most students, are you?"