Prologue

On a chilly autumn morning in Seabrook, Missy and Dale Wells were woken by a sharp knock on their door. They couldn’t have known then that the bundle left on their doorstep would alter their lives forever. Wrapped in a worn, lilac-colored blanket lay a baby girl with an unusual, almost shocking, feature—an unruly head of purple hair that was unlike anything either of them had ever seen. Wide-eyed and quiet, she looked up at them with an expression that seemed, for a newborn, unusually thoughtful.

After a glance shared between them, Missy scooped the baby up, noting how calm she seemed, almost expectant, like she knew exactly what was happening. Dale was hesitant at first; the Wellses already had their hands full with their picture-perfect daughter Addison, a blonde little cherub who embodied everything that Seabrook valued: brightness, conformity, and cheer. Still, as the baby reached up and curled her tiny fingers around his thumb, he felt something shift.

Her name was Bellatrix, after a star in the night sky. And, just like the star, Bellatrix shone with a strange, defiant glow in the overwhelmingly polished Wells household.

From the start, Bellatrix was different, and her parents couldn’t quite ignore it. While Addison laughed at Missy’s lullabies and cooed over stuffed animals, Bellatrix merely stared at her adoptive family, her eyes following their every movement with quiet intensity. By the time she was old enough to form thoughts beyond basic words, Bella knew she wasn’t like them. And by the time she was five, she stopped pretending she was.

Life in the Wells household was all about order, organization, and a cheerful outlook—qualities that suited Addison perfectly. Addison was sweet, bubbly, and positively radiated enthusiasm for all things Seabrook. She was a natural on the cheer team, the Wells family’s golden child. Bella, on the other hand, wasn’t thrilled with much of anything, least of all cheerleading, which she had somehow ended up doing thanks to Missy’s not-so-gentle nudging.

At practices, Bella would stand toward the back, going through the motions with as much enthusiasm as a cat in a dog park. She could do the routines, sure, but let’s just say her spirit chant often ended in more of a sigh. Whenever she got the chance, she’d escape the peppy clutches of her teammates and find a quiet corner to sit alone—away from the relentless, syrupy energy of Bree, Addison’s equally perky best friend.

Bree, bless her over-caffeinated soul, had more energy than a toddler on Halloween, and she used it all in cheer practice. Bella could handle Addison’s cheeriness; Addison was her sister, after all. But Bree? Bree could make anyone want to roll their eyes hard enough to see into the next dimension. Bella wasn’t mean-spirited—well, not usually—but there were only so many times she could listen to Bree talk about the "glory of spirit" before her patience cracked.

Bucky, her cousin, was another story entirely. He was the self-appointed king of Seabrook High’s cheer squad, and he acted like it, too. Bucky’s ego was the size of Seabrook, and he wore his arrogance like a crown. Bella supposed he wasn’t all bad—just dramatic, loud, and completely insufferable. Bucky couldn’t understand why she lacked “the drive to be great” and why she didn’t “strive for pep.” Bella had half a mind to tell him that pep wasn't even a real thing and where he could put it.

Then there was Zed. Zed was a zombie—a “reformed” one, if Seabrook’s official story was to be believed. He was friendly enough and, of course, was Addison’s boyfriend, which meant Bella tolerated him. But deep down, she wasn’t sure she trusted him. Zombies in Seabrook were controversial at best, and Zed’s relentless optimism struck Bella as… well, forced.

There was no real way to explain it, but something inside her just didn’t like him, and she wasn’t interested in questioning that instinct too much. She’d never met her birth parents, but if they’d dropped her off in a basket with a note that said “trust no one,” it wouldn’t have shocked her.

The years went on, and Bella tried, in her own quiet way, to push against the expectations her family placed on her. She loved Missy and Dale—they had raised her well, after all—but the differences between them were stark. They wanted so badly for her to fall in line, to be like Addison, to embrace Seabrook’s traditions and ideals. But Bella didn’t care for tradition, and she wasn’t interested in fitting into their narrow vision of normalcy.

When she was alone, she would practice her own kind of routines—ones that had nothing to do with pom-poms or glitter. She’d sit in her room with the lights dimmed, focusing on the strange energy that sometimes hummed through her veins. She didn’t know where it came from, but she knew it was real. She could feel things sometimes, just out of reach—flashes of intuition, whispers that told her something inside her was unique. Something… powerful.

But in a town like Seabrook, where everything was measured and managed, her abilities were easy to brush off as “quirks” or “adolescent imagination.” Even her parents, who saw the way she moved, who had to know she wasn’t quite human, turned a blind eye to it all. In Seabrook, ignorance was bliss, and denial was second nature.

So Bella played her part. She cheered because it was expected, smiled when she needed to, and rolled her eyes at Bucky and Bree whenever she could get away with it. But deep down, she was waiting. Waiting for something—or someone—to make sense of the strange, simmering power she could feel just beneath the surface of her skin. Waiting to find out who she really was and why she felt so different from everyone around her.

And then one day, she would  get her answer and something a little bit more.

Hey guys I hope you like this chapter and I wanted to let you know that I added in another character.