Page 13 of The Last De Loughrey Dynasty (The Legacy of Aquila Hall #1)

CHAPTER TWELVE

DOROTHEE

“Dorothee, I need some sort of description of the costume Martha should send to the school. You’re giving me a headache, child.”

“I’m sorry, can she just send me the costume I wore last year to Bethany’s party? It’s in a bag in my wardrobe, and the jewellery’s on one of the shelves next to my makeup desk.”

“Fine. Is there anything else?” Her voice suggested she wasn’t in the mood for a lengthy conversation.

“Yes, um, may I ask you something?” I hurried through the rain to the building where Chadwick’s office was located.

“You just did,” she sighed, sounding irritated. “Hurry up, I have a meeting in ten minutes, Dorothee. You know I’m busy.”

“Sorry to bother you, Mum.” I swallowed, glancing at my watch as I stood under a canopy to shield myself from the pouring rain. I still had five more minutes before my session officially started. “Could you give me Nana’s number? I’d like to call her on Friday to wish her a Happy Halloween. You know she loves it, and I miss her a lot.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, and I leant against the cold stone wall of the corridor. My skirt was nearly soaked through, and my legs were freezing. The weather had seemed much brighter this morning—it had tricked me into wearing my thin transparent tights instead of the lined ones.

“You’re doing so well, darling. I don’t want to risk her planting lies in your head again.”

“Nana’s old, Mum. She says a lot of things that are just stories she’s read in books or seen in films. You said it yourself, I’m doing well now, and I just miss her.”

Aside from missing her terribly, I had a few questions. Nana had always been the only one who truly believed me. I needed to know why. Was there something she knew that I didn’t?

“Dorothee—”

The door to Chadwick’s office opened, and I straightened up. “Sorry, Mum, I have to go. You can text me her number, and please make sure the costume goes out today so I can wear it on Friday. Goodbye.” I ended the call before waiting for a response. Perhaps that was a bit rude, but arguing with Cordelia De Loughrey was a losing game—so I didn’t bother. Either she’d text me the number, or she wouldn’t.

“Dorothee,” Chadwick greeted me as I walked in. “You seem to improve with each session.” He smiled, and I took a seat on the sofa where I always sat. It was incredibly comfortable, and I had the sense that he preferred the chair anyway.

“Thank you. I do feel better day by day, actually. I suppose this place is truly healing in some way.” Or perhaps I was just about to make sense of everything.

“I’ve noticed. And I must say, based on all the reports I’ve received from your tutors, your progress is extraordinary. You’re a talkative student who pays attention. You socialise with your classmates and spend a lot of time in the library or the common room rather than hiding away in your dorm. Those were issues you had before coming to Aquila Hall. While we’re not quite yet where we want to be, for now, you can be very proud of yourself, Dorothee.”

The reason for my progress, without any medication or anything else, was simple: now I was aware that none of it was ever in my head. All the fears and self-doubt were dark seeds planted by my parents, the doctors, and everyone else who made me question my own mind. But for obvious reasons, I hadn’t shared any of this with my psychologist. If I did, I’d probably end up in an asylum, since I now believed that everything I saw and dreamt of wasn’t a fantasy, but reality. Perhaps ghosts existed, and I could see them. Yeah, best to keep that to myself for now.

“Now, I have to inform you that your sessions will be reduced to just once a week. I’ve spoken with Headmaster Shaw and your mother. Both were surprised but pleased with your progress and agreed to my suggestion.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Is that so? I’m thrilled to hear that.”

Chadwick nodded. “Starting after Halloween this Friday, your only therapy session will be on Mondays at eight in the morning. Does that time work for you?”

“Yes!” I may have sounded overly excited, but Chadwick only laughed softly at my reaction.

I can’t say that I hated these sessions. Chadwick was kind, and we mostly talked about school or anything else I wanted. These sessions weren’t like the ones I used to have. Chadwick felt more like a friend than someone trying to get into your head at all costs.

“And have you planned anything for Halloween? Will you attend the party in the ballroom for students over the age of sixteen?”

“Yes, Maisie was initially insisting I go with her, but now I’m actually excited because my mum’s sending me the costume I wore last year. I was the black swan from Black Swan with Natalie Portman. I really love that dress,” I replied, taking a ghost-shaped biscuit from the bowl on the coffee table.

Chadwick always had some kind of food or drink for guests. Last week, I’d asked him why, and he explained that many people are nervous eaters. They need something to occupy themselves while discussing difficult topics. He also said that he himself enjoyed a good snack during sessions—nothing better than a cup of tea.

“I’m glad you’ve settled in and found some friends. Maisie’s group has existed long before my time here. They’ve never really allowed anyone new to join, so it was surprising how quickly they made you one of them.”

I shifted on the sofa, absentmindedly touching the stone around my neck. There was something unsettling about how nice they were being to me. Archer had even given me a gift. I’d never received a gift from anyone outside of my family on birthdays or Christmas throughout my childhood. They had secrets, I knew that, but still, I was somewhat happy they were trying to include me. It felt special because I’d never had this before.

“Is that a bad thing?” I asked.

He shook his head quickly. “Not at all, just surprising.”

The way he said it made me nervous, like he knew there was more behind their invitation. But then again, he was a psychologist, trained to understand human patterns. This was something he couldn’t explain, as things had always followed a certain pattern until I came along.

“Anyway, do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m going to the chapel later. I hope to see a girl I spoke to a few days ago. We had a good conversation, and I’d like to continue it, but sadly, she’s not in any of my classes, so I haven’t seen her today.”

“It’s nice that someone still visits the old chapel. Hardly any students bother with it these days,” Chadwick remarked, tapping his finger rhythmically against his cup. “What’s your friend’s name? Perhaps I know her and can tell you where to find her.”

“Gwyneth. But she told me her friends call her Gwyn.” We hadn’t exchanged surnames, so I couldn’t offer one.

Chadwick seemed to think for a moment before responding. “I’m not aware of a Gwyneth among my patients, but then again, this is a huge school, and most students are here just for a good education.”

Gwyneth wasn’t at the chapel when I arrived.

I sat down in the same spot as yesterday, closing my eyes this time as I silently prayed.

I prayed for answers.

All I needed were clear answers to the questions plaguing me. Knowing that there was more to life than the mundane wasn’t enough. I needed more—more knowledge, or I might end up lost. Answers felt like dust in my mouth when I couldn’t find the right words. Without them, I felt like a tree without roots, struggling to hold onto its place in the world.

“You’re back!” I spun around to see Gwyneth standing between the pews, her hands folded in front of her stomach, grinning. “I didn’t think you’d return.”

“Hello, Gwyn,” I smiled softly, about to stand up, but instead, she sat down quickly beside me. “Can I show you something?” she asked eagerly.

“Actually, I have a few questions for you,” I replied, nervously picking at the cuffs of my school uniform’s jumper. I wanted answers, but the thought of asking them made me anxious.

The dark-haired girl jumped up, grinning mischievously. “Let’s make it a game! I’ll show you my favourite spot on campus, and you can ask me your question.”

There was a good chance her favourite spot was the lake she mentioned yesterday. I wasn’t a fan of water, but if this was how I’d get answers, I was willing to step outside my comfort zone.

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go,” I agreed, making her squeal with excitement. She seemed like the sort of person who found joy in the small things— like a total stranger agreeing to visit her special place.

“You don’t know how much that means to me, Dottie.” Gwyneth took my hand, and a few minutes later, we were running through the woods. “Not so fast, or we’ll trip over something!” I laughed behind her, and to my surprise, she suddenly stopped, causing me to bump into her.

Once I’d regained my balance, I looked up to see her gazing adoringly ahead. A few metres in front of us was a small lake, shimmering green under the canopy of surrounding trees. Fog curled around the edges, and suddenly, I wasn’t sure if it could even be called a lake—perhaps it was more of a pond.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Gwyn asked, her voice warm. She let go of my hand and ran onto an old wooden bridge that spanned the water. The bridge creaked under her feet, but she seemed oblivious to it, carefree in a way that made her seem untouchable by any worries. She danced on the bridge, giggling softly as the wind caught her hair.

“It’s mesmerising,” I replied, bending down to touch the water with my fingertips. The cold water felt purer than warm water, and as I examined it closely, it appeared quite clean. The whole scene looked like something from a fairy tale.

“Most students believe the water’s cursed,” Gwyn explained as she sat down on the bridge, dangling her feet over the edge. “There’s a story about a girl who fell in and drowned, and supposedly, her spirit is still tied to the lake.”

I stood up again, walking over to join her. The bridge creaked ominously under my weight.

“Tell me more about this urban legend,” I asked, swinging my feet beside hers. Gwyneth stared out at the lake for a moment, then began to speak again, her voice distant and thoughtful.

“Once upon a time, two friends loved to run away from their responsibilities. On days where the normal life got a little too normal, they put on their prettiest dresses and started playing lost princesses while they ran around the woods to their final destination–the lake of enchanted folklores. That’s what the two friends called the water, since they used to write down their own folklore about what had happened on these waters before. One day, the two girls–despite them being already young ladies–came here again in the night before Christmas. The youngest of the girls didn’t realise the frozen lake might not be thick enough to dance on it. In her rush of just wanting to escape reality, she didn’t notice the lake cracking under her feet. The next moment, her friend was screaming for her to get off the frozen water, but fate had already written her destiny and the girl disappeared in the frozen waters. Her heart stopped from the cold before she had a chance to fight,”

Gwyn’s smile faded as she finished the story, and a wave of sadness washed over me.

“Poor girl,” I murmured, brushing my hair behind my ears as the air grew colder, and the wind picked up. “What were their names?”

Gwyn shrugged. “I do not know, there is a part of me that believes that the tale carries its truth, but the only titles the girls received were the Fox and the Doe.”

I almost thought about asking Maisie later if she had somewhat ever heard about the tale of the Fox and the Doe of Aquila Hall, but the fact that there were secrets she intensively hid made me think twice about asking her. But after all, I only knew her for almost a month so I wouldn’t judge. Her friendship meant too much to me to judge her too soon.

“Gwyn?”

She turned to face me, a small spark of happiness returning to her expression. “Yes?”

“Do you know what Maisie does when she leaves our room in the middle of the night?”

“No, I don’t,” came her immediate reply.

“Then what was the secret you told me to uncover?”

Gwyneth folded her hands in her lap, her expression becoming serious. “Secrets aren’t meant to be told. They’re meant to be found.”