Chapter Two: Kayana

The moonlight fell across Kayana's delicate face, lighting up her two colored eyes. She turned her head to the moon, drinking in it's white rays. Her hand flew to the silver necklace at her throat: a star, with five small amethysts at each point and a larger purple gemstone in the middle. It had been given to her on her sixth birthday by her mother, and she had cherished it ever since.

Her mother, like her sixth birthday, was long gone: she had died of a stroke when Kayana was nine. After her mother died, her father had remarried within three months to a tall, blonde woman named Cherie Ellensa. Cherie was empty-headed, boring, and not good for much except modeling or posing with. Naturally, Kayana hated her.

The only thing that was good about Cherie was her lack of rules. There was only one: Stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours. Kayana took this rule to heart: she had little or no meals with the rest of her family, went out whenever she wanted, and in general, kept to herself. Cherie couldn't have cared less about her unruly stepdaughter.

Kayana, on the other hand, cared a lot about Cherie, or, more specifically, her seven year old daughter, Kayana's stepsister. Sarah was small, sweet, and loved Kayana like she was her own mother, most likely because her biological mother whisked her away and dressed her up in pink whenever possible. Sarah hated pink.

But right now, Sarah was being towed along behind Cherie towards the party of the decade, and Kayana was left to make her way on her own. Her father was holding a party on the back lawn of their summer mansion to celebrate Johnstonne Industries new invention. Now, Kayana hurried with the crowd towards the back lawn.

"Kayana! Over here!" She knew who it was without looking. She smoothed down her midnight blue dress, forced a smile on her face, and turned to face the paparazzi. The flash of camera bulbs almost blinded her, and after a few seconds she turned and ran towards the fountain in the middle of the patio.

She ran her hands along the smooth marble and looked up towards the statue that occupied the top of the fountain. A marble boy poured water into the central basin. When she was younger, her father used to tease her about him. "Is he cute?" he would ask. "You never know, maybe one day he will come to life and sweep you off your feet!" She had giggled and hugged her father.

Kayana sighed. Those were better times, before her father had become the solid, uncaring man he was today. It had all changed after her mother died, Kayana mused. If she hadn't died, we would be better off and I wouldn't have to go away to that boarding school.

The next day, she would pack her bags and be whisked away to an international school in Paris. It would be Kayana's last night in the house for a long time.

In fact, it would be longer than she expected.