Chapter 17
Derrick Ryan, who had been slouched lazily in his seat, perked up the moment he spotted Dora. He quickly scooted over, dragging his chair along with a screech. “Dora, I’ve got a spare apartment. It’s not huge, but it’s definitely better than that cramped place you’re living in now. What do you say? Want to use it for a while?”
Before Dora could respond, Effie smacked him on the arm. “She didn’t even take my place–why would she accept yours?”
Derrick pouted and shrugged. ‘Fine. No beating this firecracker of a girl,‘ he thought.
Their playful bickering filled the room with noise, so much so that no one noticed the homeroom teacher entering.
“What’s going on in here? You lot are the loudest on the entire floor!”
The moment the teacher spoke, everyone snapped to attention, scrambled to their seats, and fell silent.
Ordstead Middle School might’ve been a prestigious private school for the wealthy elite, but the students weren’t so different from regular ones–they feared teachers and disciplinary action just the same.
Outsiders often assumed private schools like Ordstead were full of spoiled rich kids who skipped class, fooled around, and talked back to teachers.
But in reality, Ordstead students were even more competitive. In addition to the standard academic subjects for the national college entrance exams, they were expected to study economics, aesthetics, equestrian skills, and more. Ranking high in this school carried more weight than topping the city charts.
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And as for talking back to teachers? Completely out of the question. Ordstead was founded by one of the country’s most powerful figures, and student conduct was taken very seriously. Any show of disrespect could lead to severe punishment–not just for the student, but potentially for their family as well.
“It’s the first day of the new semester, so I’ll let it go this time,” the teacher said, voice stern but measured. “This is your final year. Stay focused, stay out of trouble, and finish strong. Got it?”
“Yes, sir!” the class responded in unison.
“Good. One more thing–this semester we’re welcoming a transfer student. Linda, come on in.”
Everyone exchanged curious glances, then turned toward the front of the room. Effie shot Dora a look, but Dora simply smiled slightly, calm and unreadable–like she was settling in to watch a performance.
After several days of intensive etiquette training, Linda had finally managed to acquire a bit of that refined heiress aura. She stepped into the classroom wearing a soft smile, her voice sweet and measured as she
introduced herself.
“Hello, everyone. I’m Linda. I was accidentally switched at birth, but I’ve now reunited with my biological parents and returned to the Hendrix family. I hope we’ll all get along well this year.”
She wore a custom pale–pink designer dress, her long hair cascading softly over her shoulders, radiating a delicate, “girl–next–door” charm.
If she were still at her old school, Yredo Middle School, her story might’ve earned her sympathy–people would’ve pitied her for losing seventeen years of her rightful heiress life, or fawned over her because of her Hendrix family status.
But this was Ordstead Middle School. Her little act barely registered here.
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The class remained dead silent.
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Her practiced sweetness made Derrick roll his eyes. He leaned back and said lazily, “Wow, the real Hendrix family heiress sure doesn’t waste time- came home and immediately kicked Dora out?”
Linda’s gaze faltered. She instinctively slipped into her well–worn damsel routine–eyes lowered, lips gently pressed together, as if deeply torn.
After a long pause, she said softly, “I just. I thought that after Mom and Dad raised her for seventeen years, she wouldn’t want to leave. But she asked Dad for 1 million dollars and walked out without looking back. I really don’t understand how she could be so heartless.”
“Heartless, your grandma’s head!” A furious voice rang out across the classroom.
Linda’s face drained of color. She looked up in alarm–only to find herself staring at a fierce, short–haired girl glaring at her with blazing fury.
And right next to her stood Dora, calm as ever, watching it all unfold with an amused, unbothered smile.
“Effie! Watch your tone!” Homeroom teacher Micah Sellers frowned, clearly annoyed, and stared at Effie, who had just slammed her hand on the desk and stood up. Effie pressed her lips together, then obediently sat back down.
With Micah backing her up, Linda quickly masked her smirk and
clutched the hem of her skirt, playing the part of the wronged victim. “It’s alright, Mr. Sellers,” she said sweetly. “My adoptive family’s not well–off, and Dora’s used to a very different lifestyle. It’s normal for her to feel some resentment toward me.”
Micah wasn’t siding with Linda. He was a teacher, and this was school–it was his job to maintain discipline. Effie had acted out right in front of him, and there was no way he could ignore it.
