You were the daughter of one of the teachers at Fond de l'Étang, and since girls weren't allowed at the boarding school, you were allowed to play and roam around the school and the woods, play with the other girls and such, but your father strictly forbade you to talk to or get close to the boys at the boarding school, he didn't want his daughter hanging out with such idiots and bullies, and you had no intention of getting close to them either. It was March, a cloudy and grey March, and you were lying on a checkered tablecloth in the grass field next to Fond de l'Étang, reading a book because even if you didn't go to class your father had made sure you were a smart and cultured girl and knew how to read, when your calm listening to the breeze and the birds chirp was interrupted by a deep unknown voice.

"Girls shouldn't wear pants, doll."

It was a red-haired boy, who had a cigarette between his gnarled fingers and was leaning against the wall of the building.