Chapter 1

Los Angeles California 2020

Sofya

My foster mother screamed at me from the floor below. The screeching noise jarred me from my much-needed sleep. I grudgingly turned, almost falling off my bed. I rotated a tiny bit more to read my clock but in the process, I slipped off my bed and landed in a heap on the floor, oowww. I groaned and blinked tiredly at the red numbers on the clock. It read seven-thirty. I frowned. It was way too early to be up at this ungodly hour. Today I was moving to yet another foster home. Not that it was much of a surprise. No family had ever kept me for more than a year. At least I wouldn't be transferring schools. I was lucky that hadn't happened yet. All the foster families that had taken me in had been in the same district.

As I stood up, my eyes scanned the room. I noticed how barren and plain it looked. White walls, simple wood floor, no wall decorations or paintings. All of it had been my art, which I had taken down. I headed over to the bathroom to gather the last of my things.

I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, my violet eyes staring back at me. I scowled. Nobody ever believed that it was my real eye color, they just seemed too unnatural. At first, I didn't realize they were strange. Back when I lived in Australia I hadn't interacted with many people besides my mom and dad. People started saying things once I moved to Los Angeles. I wasn't one to care about what other people thought, so I just shrugged it off. They were my mother's eyes, one of the few things I still remembered about her. I wished I had forgotten.

I ran a brush through my light brown hair, it hung almost to my waist. I frowned at the sight, it was getting way too long. I should've cut it months ago. I wasn't sure why I hadn't. You know why.

I walked over to my dresser, getting the clothes I had picked out last night. I pulled on the dark blue jeans and crimson blouse. Then I tugged on my trusty black combat boots. Couldn't leave those behind.

I looked one more time in the mirror, running my fingers along the rugged surface of the blood-red gem hanging on my neck, an heirloom from my real parents. I should have gotten rid of the bloody thing, but for some odd reason, I couldn't bring myself to put it in the trash. I sighed and lifted up my two suitcases then headed downstairs.

My foster parents stood in the center of the kitchen, fake smiles plastered on their plastic faces. Perfection, perfection is what they craved. So, therefore not me. I set down the suitcases and grabbed an apple from the bowl that was placed in the center of the gray marble counter. I took a large bite. "Morning," I mumbled, glancing at my foster parents who were still staring at me. Creeps.

Annie had a crease in her pencil-drawn brown eyebrows, looking disappointed. "Sofya, what have I taught you this past year? Manners sweetie." She said, her voice tisking me. I rolled my eyes, sweetie? Hah, that was a real nice joke.

"Are they here yet?" I asked. Jack looked at me in disdain, his grey hair glistening in the stale light. I was used to it.

"Yes, they're out front." He said, his voice cool and distant. I took a deep breath. Maybe this family would be different. One could hope. I scoffed at myself. Who was I kidding? I picked up the suitcases and headed to the front door. I reluctantly looked back one last time, seeing if they had cared about me in the slightest. Their faces held no emotion and I wondered if they even had any. Doubt it.

I turned around and flung the door wide open. I stepped out, the warm California breeze greeting my face. I smiled as the sun beat down on my face. I looked down the long driveway to find a sleek black limo waiting. Jeez, how rich were these people? I mean Jack and Annie's house constituted as a mansion, but I didn't ride in a limo. Well, I didn't ride in anything since they had refused to buy me a car. Which was completely ridiculous since they had more than enough money. They stated, "fresh air is good for the soul" or some nonsense like that.

As I walked up to the limo a tall stocky man stepped out. Sunglasses rested on his face so I couldn't see his eyes. "The eyes were the key to one's soul." someone had once said. I couldn't remember who, but it had stuck with me. From what I could make of the man's expression, his mouth was in a thin straight line, wrinkles creased on the edges. I guess he frowned often. I couldn't blame him, he had a pretty boring job. He looked like someone that could have been from Men In Black. With the fancy get up and all.

"I'll take your bags, Miss." He said, his voice low and crisp. I nodded and got into the car as he opened the door. This was a bit suspicious, not going to lie. Should I have been concerned, maybe. Was I? No.

After he put my bags in the trunk, he got in the driver's seat and I noticed the passenger seat held a smaller guy with warm brown hair and skin. He had the same attire as the other guy and the same expression. Lovely, I bet they were bodyguards of some sort, or maybe professional killers. You never know nowadays. Best to assume the worst, at least then you'll be prepared. Too bad you suck at that Miss Optimism.

We drove in silence. I kept myself occupied by staring out the window. The sun was slowly setting, an orange hue taking over the sky mixing in with the blue. Eventually, I noticed we were in the woods. What a great observation. Enormous trees formed a dark canopy above us as white petals drifted to the ground like snow.

When we finally reached some sign of civilization, a black iron gate loomed before us. Tall Dude got out of the limo and walked up to a speaker box thingy. As he walked back to the car the gate swung open. He got back in and started up the long driveway. When the car got close enough to see the house I gasped. It was humongous. It had to have been the largest house I had ever seen in my life. The exterior was deep rich mahogany and it had very few windows. It had a sort of cabin look and feel, apart from the fact it was 100 times the size of a cabin. Tall Dude opened the door for me, as Shorty grabbed my suitcases. And yes, I did name the bodyguards/serial killers. Nutcase. Maybe.

I stepped out, admiring the fantastic view. I could make out the ocean just beyond the trees. A small smile tugged at my lips. Maybe these people would be different. I thought, repeating the mantra over in my head. I followed Tall Dude up the steps to the mansion. He typed a passcode in and the door opened with a click. Inside the house had a smokey smell mixed with pine, like a campfire. It reminded me of when I lived in Australia. My real parents had taken me camping almost every other weekend. Till they left me. I felt a small flash of pain at the memory. I'd rather not think about that day ever again.

As we stepped inside a young man, probably in his mid-twenties, greeted us. A bright smile plastered on his face, it looked a little off but it didn't look like the fake ones Jack and Annie projected. So, I gave a genuine smile back. But what shocked me was when I met his eyes, they were a fiery orange. Well, It was nice to know I wasn't the only one with strange eye color.

"Hello, you must be Sofya. I'm Sam Echevarria, but you can call me Sam."

"Hi, I'm Sofya. Do you live here alone? If you don't mind me asking." I questioned. It'd be kind of sad if he did since it was such a big place. I'd imagine it could get quite lonely. He shook his head, and I wondered who else was here.

"No, I live here with my son. He's about your age, you'll be going to the same school." He said. I blinked, he had a son? My age? He looked a bit too young for that. But who was I to question? "Let me show you the house, follow me please," he said, walking up the grand staircase. I followed him up to the second level, and he briefly explained where everything was. "This level is mostly for the staff, this is where they stay, but there is also a game room, spa, pool, and movie theater. Also, the dining room is here." Sam said. I grinned. A movie theater? Well, I suppose I could get used to that.

A few minutes later we moved up to the third floor. I gazed down the long hallway, it felt like a hotel. Or at least I imagined a hotel would look like, I had never actually been in one.

"This is where my son's room is and where your room is. There are some guest rooms as well, but those are unoccupied. My room is on the fourth floor along with my office." Sam said, leading me down the hallway. I nodded trying to remember where everything was even though I was almost certain I would forget in approximately the next five minutes.

He stopped by the first door and pointed at it. "This is my son's room, he's usually cooped up in there, or out. So he won't be bothersome." Sam said, chuckling. He led me down to the last room and opened the door. I gasped for what seemed like the millionth time. The room was beautiful, and it was huge. I stepped inside taking it in. The bedding and comforter were a vibrant violet, the same shade as my eyes. The curtains a beautiful ocean blue. The carpet, soft white, modern furnishings, and a huge tv stood on a dresser across from the bed. I also saw a door opening to a large walk-in closet and another door leading to a connecting bathroom. "This is your room," Sam said. My eyes widened.

"Really?" I asked. This was too good to be true. While Jack and Annie lived in a mansion with over ten rooms they had put me in the smallest guestroom, which I wasn't exactly sure was meant to be a guest room. I was pretty sure it had been a storage closet before I moved in.

"Really," Sam said. My luggage was already in the closet. I bet Shorty had lugged it up here. "Well, I leave you to get settled, be down for dinner at seven o'clock. No dressing up necessary" Sam said before closing the door softly.

I sprawled across the bed, sinking into the soft mattress. This was the life. I glanced over at the silver alarm clock on the nightstand next to bed, it read at 6 o'clock. So I had some time to kill. I flopped down on the bed, grabbing my phone out of my pocket. Sara, who was one of my best friends, would want to see this. I opened Sara's contact to text her I had made it to the new house safely. I sent her a few pictures as well and she replied with OMG. I couldn't wait to see her tomorrow, since I hadn't seen her all summer.

After a while of reading one of my favorite books, Warcross by Marie Lu, on my phone, I checked the clock again and it was 6:45. I suspected I should head down for dinner, it was about time and there was a high chance that I would get lost, make that extremely high. I slid off the bed, setting my phone on the dresser.

I opened the door, peering into the long hallway to see if anyone was out there. There was no one, it was barren. I stepped out, shutting the door behind me. Ok, now time to find the dining room. This was going to be a struggle, I remembered that Sam had said it was on the second floor, but didn't say where or I didn't remember where. One of those. I walked down the hallway making my way down the stairs. I found the second floor and began to check out the rooms.

By the time I found the dining room, it was the eighth room I had checked. I peered inside to see a long oak table with Sam seated at the head of it. I noticed the table was only set for two, I guess his son wasn't joining us. Too bad I wanted to know what he looked like. Well, that and who he was as well. I walked inside taking a seat where the silverware was. "Hi." I greeted Sam, a small smile on my lips.

"Hello Sofya, have a seat." He said kindly, the corner of his eyes creasing. I sat down as the staff began placing food in front of us. I almost groaned at the aroma, it was almost as if I could already taste the filet mignon and steamy green beans. Once the food was before us, I dug in. I was starved since I had unintentionally skipped lunch and not had the most filling breakfast.

"So, um, you said you had a son. He isn't joining us tonight?" I asked politely. Sam shook his head. "I'm afraid, he had some other plans than to have dinner with his dear old dad. But you'll meet him eventually." Sam said. I nodded and continued eating. Sam was hardly old. I wondered if he had adopted or something.

After dinner was done, I found my way back to my room. It was a struggle, but I made it. I picked out a pair of pajamas, plaid cotton shorts, and a simple t-shirt. I crawled into the luxurious bed, snuggling into the covers. I layed on my back, staring into the darkness.

Tomorrow I had school. Looking forward to that, not. Anyone who looked forward to school, well, I considered those people psychopaths. To me, school was the equivalent of prison. We couldn't leave without permission and we had bells that signaled where to go. Sounds a lot like a prison to me. I closed my eyes and tried to think happy thoughts. It was unfortunately more difficult than it should've been.