Bella stared at the email like it might rewrite itself if she looked long enough.
"You belong here now, Bella. We've been expecting you."
Her eyes moved slowly back to the school name at the top. Whitethorn Academy.
"Is this some kind of joke?" she asked, her voice thin.
Carla said nothing at first. She turned the phone screen back toward herself and reread the message. Her lips pressed tightly together.
When she finally spoke, her voice was gentler.
"Oh… actually—wait. I think I might know what this is about."
Bella looked at her, confused. "What?"
Carla gave a soft, dismissive laugh. "Your Uncle Eliot. Distant uncle from my dad's side. You've probably only met him once when you were little."
Bella blinked. "Eliot?"
"Yes, yes," Carla nodded quickly, the lie falling smoother now. "He used to talk about this school… elite, very private. They don't take random applications. It's all through referrals. I think he may have put your name in. I remember he asked about you last Christmas, now that I think about it."
Bella's brows creased. "But… why now?"
"Well," Carla exhaled, easing more into the lie, "he's always been a bit odd, but he adores smart girls. He always admired you, thought you had something special in you—especially when I sent him your grades. Maybe he finally followed through, sent them your grades or something, put in a word or two for you."
Bella didn't respond immediately. Her mind was still spinning.
"But I didn't apply," she murmured. "I didn't even know this place existed."
"I know, I know," Carla said quickly. "But with referrals like this, you don't need to. That's the point. It's probably something he arranged a while back, and it just got approved now."
The room fell into a thoughtful silence. Bella's gaze dropped to her lap, where her hands were still knotted tightly. The cold weight of the blackmail, Mira, her father's anger—it was all still fresh. But this… this new thing felt strange.
"Room and board," she said aloud, almost to herself. "Immediate enrollment."
Carla sat beside her again, smoothing down Bella's tangled hair with a hand. "It's a good school. For Uncle Eliot to orchestrate this, then it must be worth it. He's a good man, Bella. I don't think he'll do anything short of the best for you."
Bella's throat tightened. "So you think I should go?"
Carla paused. "I think… it might be the fresh start you need. Away from this whole mess. The pictures. Mira. Your dad and his resentment towards you. You could be somewhere no one knows you. Somewhere entirely new."
Bella exhaled shakily. "But it's so sudden. I don't even have time to think. My entire life has been here—my friends, my school—"
"What school? The same one that expelled you without a second thought? Friends who betrayed you? Listen, I think this is a miracle for you, Bels," Carla said softly. "You've been through hell these last few days. Sometimes… a door opens for a reason. Sometimes we don't get to sit around and wait for the perfect moment. We just have to step through it."
Bella's lips trembled. "Do you really think it was Uncle Eliot?"
Carla smiled gently and touched her cheek. "Sweetheart, who else would care enough to pull strings like that for you?"
It wasn't the answer to her question. But Bella was too tired to question it.
The silence wrapped around them again, filled with uncertainty.
From upstairs, they heard the sound of Jonathan's footsteps moving around. It was enough to remind Bella of how small and insignificant she'd always felt in this house. How every word he had said to her still burned, engraved in her mind.
She turned to her mother again, her voice soft. "Will it really help me get away from this?"
Carla nodded. "Yes. And maybe even help us figure things out in peace while you're away. Angela can keep working without you being in danger. I'll see to it that everyone involved in this is severely punished. As for you? You can focus on your studies. You'll be safe," she concluded, stroking her face.
Bella placed her hands over her mum's. Then her eyes drifted back to the phone screen.
"I guess it's better than being in that school, being whispered about in the halls, having eggs thrown in my face," she muttered.
"You won't have to face that anymore," Carla said. "You won't even have to remember any of it. You'll be gone, and people will move on."
Bella took a deep breath.
"They always do."
Carla watched her daughter closely, then added, "You don't have to decide right this second. But if you do want to go, we can have your things packed and ready by tomorrow morning."
Bella tilted her head slightly. "Tomorrow?"
"They sent a second email already," Carla explained. "The driver can pick you up at noon. They'll take care of everything once you're there. Uniforms, textbooks—all sorted."
Bella's eyes went wide. "That's… fast."
"I know. But it's not forever. You can always come back during the holidays."
Bella's hands fidgeted again.
"What if it's a mistake?" she asked. "What if I get there and they say they don't know who I am?"
Carla cupped her cheek. "They know who you are, Bella. They said they've been expecting you, haven't they? Your name is written out in full on that email."
Bella nodded slowly, though a chill ran down her spine.
Carla stood and smoothed her hands over her trousers. "I'll help you pack a few things for now. The rest we'll ship later."
As Carla moved toward the stairs, Bella's eyes lingered on the email again.
"You belong here now, Bella."
The words echoed.
Something about it still didn't sit right. But maybe it didn't have to. Maybe she didn't need to understand why—just embrace the opportunity like her mum said. Maybe escape didn't always come in the shape you expected.
And if her mother said it was safe—if Uncle Eliot had really helped—then maybe this was her shot.
Her second chance.
And if it wasn't?
Then at least it wasn't here.
"So… what next?" she asked her mum.
"We talk to your father," Carla said simply.
Bella shifted uncomfortably. "Do we have to?"
Carla gave her a look. "This is big, Bels. You're being offered a full scholarship. You'll be going away. We need to at least let him know."
Bella didn't argue, but her expression tensed with dread as Carla stood and walked down the corridor toward Jonathan's study. Bella followed hesitantly, her footsteps barely making any sound on the hardwood floor.
Carla knocked once and pushed the door open.
Jonathan sat at his desk, flipping through a business magazine. He didn't bother to look up.
In a sharp, irritated voice, he asked, "What is it now?"
Carla held the phone in front of her. "A scholarship came in. Bella got an offer from Whitethorn Academy."
At that, Jonathan finally glanced up. He looked from Carla to Bella, his expression unreadable.
Bella shifted behind her mother, her voice small. "They said I've been accepted. No application. Full scholarship. Room, board… everything."
Jonathan leaned back in his chair and gave a humorless chuckle. "Well, isn't that something."
Carla frowned. "Jonathan—"
"I'm just saying," he cut in, raising a hand. "If they want her that bad, they can have her."
Bella flinched, her chest tightening.
Jonathan stood slowly, stretching. "So what? You want me to jump and clap? Throw her a party?"
"No one asked for any of that," Carla replied coldly. "Just be happy for her, at least."
Jonathan walked toward the small bar near the corner of his study and poured himself a glass of water.
"I think it's a good idea," he said over his shoulder. "Let her go. Let her start over somewhere else."
There was a pause.
He turned to face them, taking a slow sip from his glass. "Frankly, it's… relieving. Knowing I won't have to deal with this drama anymore."
"Drama?" Carla repeated, her voice tightening.
Bella's fingers curled into her palms.
Jonathan's tone was flat, devoid of warmth. "Look, whatever you both decide is fine. If she wants to go, let her go. At least this time, she's not running off to God knows where. Someone else will be responsible for her now."
Carla's mouth parted slightly, stunned.
"You make it sound like she's a burden," she said, incredulous.
Jonathan didn't deny it. He just shrugged.
Bella's voice cracked as she stepped forward. "You really don't care?"
He looked at her for a long second. "I care that you're leaving. Because it means I don't have to worry about the next mess you bring home."
Carla gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "Jonathan!"
But Bella didn't move. Her heart felt like it had stopped. Her feet might as well have been rooted to the floor.
Jonathan didn't look away.
"You wanted honesty? There it is," he said. "I did what I could for you growing up. But clearly, it wasn't enough. You want to start fresh? Good. Do it. Just don't expect me to watch every part of your embarrassing life."
Bella felt like something cracked inside her. But she didn't cry.
Carla turned fully toward him now, furious. "You didn't raise her like that. I did. You were always too busy—you never cared!"
Jonathan's expression remained unmoved. "And look where your softness got us."
"I'd rather raise a child with heart than one filled with fear," she snapped. "And if you can't see the opportunity in front of her now—if you can't be proud for once in your damn life—then don't say another word."
Jonathan set his glass down, tired of the conversation already.
"Fine," he said simply. "You've made up your minds anyway. Go ahead."
He returned to his desk without looking at either of them.
Carla turned away first, fury in her eyes. Bella followed, stiff and silent, her face pale.
Back in the hallway, the two of them stopped in the quiet.
"I'm sorry you had to hear that," Carla whispered.
Bella shook her head, her voice barely audible. "Don't be. At least now his words don't hurt as much."
Carla touched her cheek gently. "You know what I see?"
"What?"
"A girl who's going to prove him wrong."
Bella's throat closed up again. "Thank you for standing by me, Momma."
"Come here, my child."
She stood hugging her for another ten minutes.
Wiping her eyes as they finally let go, Bella took a shaky breath and said, "I think I need to pack."
Carla smiled. "Then let's get started."