Chapter 283
Vivian shot her down without mercy. “Talk is cheap. Let’s see you get in first.”
“I totally can. Just you wait and see.”
A sly smile touched Winifred’s lips. “Wanna bet?”
Amber puffed out her chest and lifted her chin. “You’re on. A bet’s a bet.”
Vivian jumped in first. “If you actually get in, I’ll give you one million dollars. How about that?”
Amber waved a dismissive hand. “No, I don’t need money. Let’s make it something real.”
Sienna was already depositing more than enough into her account every month; money was the last thing she needed. She couldn’t spend it fast enough.
“I have an idea,” Winifred said, her eyes glinting. “If you get into Stanford, Vivian has to be your personal servant for a month. If you don’t, you have to be her and my servant for a month. Deal?”
Amber clapped her hands, her voice booming with confidence. “Deal. No take-backs. Sienna, you’re the witness.”
“Alright,” Sienna said with a resigned sigh.
Vivian shot Winifred a look that was half-smile, half-threat. She really was the most cunning one; she had nothing to lose either way.
Fink’s arrival on campus as a new teacher caused an immediate stir. With his long, cobalt blue hair and striking features, he was devastatingly beautiful. Was he even a man?
A wave of excitement swept through the school. Everyone was clamoring to get into his class.
“Hello, everyone. My name is Kress Hay. You can call me Mr. Hay.”
“Mr. Hay! Mr. Hay!” the students chanted.
Rowena watched Kress Hay with a detached expression. So this was the famous Fink.
He looked nothing like the rumors suggested. She had pictured a white-haired old man, not someone young and gorgeous.
“Alright, let’s begin our lesson,” Kress said, his voice calm and steady.
Winifred was in the back row, fast asleep. While the other students were diligently sketching, she was dead to the world. Kress walked over to her, ready to reprimand her, but then he noticed the drawing pinned under her arm. It was in his signature dark, expressionist style.
Her talent was immense; she could capture a subject’s soul with just a few strokes. Kress was stunned. Could she be the student Hazel Noir wanted him to take on? She was certainly promising.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Winifred snatched the sketchbook out of his hands, annoyed. Who did he think he was, touching her stuff?
Kress met her fierce gaze and cleared his throat. “Apologies. I just noticed your drawing has a unique quality. I’m organizing a competition tomorrow; I was wondering if you’d be interested in participating.”
Winifred’s cold eyes scanned him from head to toe. This androgynous freak was getting on her nerves. “Get lost. Not interested.”
Kress’s expression froze. He hadn’t expected that reaction. “I'm your teacher, young lady.”
“So?” Winifred let out a bored yawn and went back to sleep.
A spark of anger flared in Kress. This student was unbelievably arrogant. She clearly had no idea who he was. If she did, she’d be begging for the opportunity.
“Just between us,” Kress whispered, leaning in, “I’m here to select one outstanding student to be my apprentice.”
He expected Winifred to be thrilled, but she just gave him a look like he was an idiot. “What does that have to do with me? Are you nuts? Scram, before I make you.”
“You… you.” Kress nearly choked on his rage.
The bell rang, and Winifred packed her things and left immediately.
As she navigated the crowded hallway, someone shoved a folded piece of paper into her hand. It was a note asking her to meet in the small grove of trees behind the school. She was about to toss it when she saw the name at the bottom: Rowena Clare.
She still hadn’t figured out the deal with the flowers Rowena had sent, so she decided to go.
Rowena waited, her heart pounding with a mix of fear that Winifred wouldn’t come and fear that she would.
“You wanted to see me.” Winifred’s voice rang out.