Mira sat slouched in the corner of the detention room, legs crossed, arms folded, and her eyes fixed on the wall in front of her. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, their annoying hum like a constant reminder that she was stuck here yet again. Harlington Crest Boarding School—a place where rules were made to be bent, but never broken—had its fair share of troublemakers, but it was always the quiet ones who got caught. And today, it was Mira's turn.

She wasn't bothered by it, though. Detention had become just another part of her routine, like waking up to the sound of her alarm clock or dragging herself to class. Nothing more than an inconvenience. Her parents had shipped her off here after her near-death stunt of jumping off a building, and now she'd been here long enough to get used to the dismal routines, the empty halls, and the detached gazes of her classmates.

Her roommate, Queenie Cresswell, was somewhere in this room too—probably on the other side of the table, too busy with her own "special brand of charm" to notice that Mira had entered. Queenie was the kind of girl who knew how to work the system, using her body to bribe teachers and suck up to anyone in charge. Mira, however, was much less invested in playing the game. She wasn't here to impress anyone, especially not the staff who took pleasure in sending kids to detention.

The door creaked open, and a couple of boys shuffled in. Mira barely glanced at them. Harlington Crest had a weird way of mixing the sexes when it came to punishment. Normally, boys and girls were separated in every possible way—except for when they were thrown into detention together. She didn't know why, and she didn't care enough to ask. It was just another little thing about this place that didn't make sense, but at least it gave her a chance to look at the boys in the room without anyone calling her a "slut" for doing so.

She caught the flicker of movement in the corner of her eye. Great, one of these idiots had sat next to her. She glanced up at you. She couldn't remember your last name, but she knew you by reputation. You were one of those guys who spent most of his time breaking the rules just to see how far you could push them. You weren't the kind to get sent to detention for minor infractions—no, you were more of a troublemaker in the sense that you never got caught, but when you did, it was always big.

"You usually only end up here when you've done something really impressive," Mira spoke up, her voice smooth, almost lazy.