The ground is shaking.

Everything rattles as if part of an incessant orchestra playing their last movement, the crescendo rising whole-heartedly towards destruction. All at once our world feels so fragile, as if the structures people believed indestructible were now making a mockery of those that built them. Protection seemed like a joke. Reassurance a circus trick.

Fissures seize pillars and floors. Suddenly, there is a seismic crack.

Everywhere she went, danger lurked. She felt completely stripped bare to her core, without even a sliver of hope or a helping hand or-

The only thing that her mind zeroed in on was simple.

Run.

* * *

Three days earlier

Despite the numerous books Amita had devoured throughout the course of her entire life, there were no words that could possibly surmount the beauty that stood before her.

The gates welcomed her as if she were a princess riding in a golden carriage, arriving at a lavish ball. Truth be told, the moment she landed at the airport, disbelief struck her when a chauffeur approached her, looking as if he had stepped out of a fairytale book. The man led her, with a grace she had never known a real person could possess, to a limousine.

A limousine. Never in her life did she dare dream she would sit in one. Let alone see one with her own two eyes. Before today, she had only experienced luxuries through the pages of books. Books were her life. The places she travelled, the people she met, the cities she walked in, palaces, cultures, food, balls - all through the scripts of printed texts. No one appreciated books more than Amita did.

A tear slid down her golden-brown face as she recalled the day her Papa bought her very first novel. They did not have much. Papa could have spent his wages on other things to treat himself. Papa could have bought many things his colleagues at work had the luxury of boasting they owned. Papa could have done many other things for himself with the little he earned through blood, sweat and tears. But no - he always put his family first.

"Mita," he said while giving her the clothbound set. "Papa can't take us very far right now. We cannot travel yet. But I want you to travel. I want you to see the world. So for now, my dear girl, this is the best I can do."

And so she did. She travelled to many places and shared her stories with her little brothers and Amma. Yes, it was fictional, but it brought them true, very real joy.

Amita wanted to make her parents proud. 'Yet,' her father had said. They haven't travelled the world 'yet'. Her father had gifted her books to travel, and now she would work as hard as she could and take her family to see the world.

"Are you alright back there, miss?" the graceful driver questioned from the front.

She did not realise she had been tearing up quite messily in the backseat.

"Yes, yes! Of course," fumbling with her rose-gold glasses and wiping away the tears, "I appreciate the check-in, thank you." She cleared her throat as the chauffeur nodded his acknowledgement through the rear-view mirror.

All Amita wanted to do was make her parents proud. It was what she prayed for every day without fail. And by God's grace, she was granted acceptance to St. Aphrodite's - the top school in the nation. The nights she spent burning the midnight oil - literally, for they had to save electricity - studying and studying. The day the letter arrived regarding her acceptance; she would never forget the look on her parents' faces. Pride and joy like no other from her mother. She screamed her lungs out, till the whole village could hear. But from her father, there was worry. Amita had never ventured so far physically. They lived in a small house, so close all the time. And now that she was to leave home - she understood her Papa's worry.

"Be safe, Amita. Remember what you are there for and follow through. Thank God everyday for the opportunity He has granted you," he had whispered at the airport. "We love you. Never forget that."

With her goal to study hard and make her parents proud steady in her mind, the doors of her fairytale carriage - sorry, limo - opened.

"Welcome to St. Aphrodite's Academy of Prestige, Ms. Amita Chandran."

* * *

Speechless. Her vocabulary train was stunted upon all that she was shown in the span of the past hour.

"And this will be your dormitory, miss."Even the air seemed to pause around her. This was more than she could have ever wished for. The room seemed to glow under the meticulously designed lamps across the room. Spacious. So spacious she was certain she could waltz around blindly and not hit a thing. A walk-in wardrobe posed at the left of the room, behind a hidden door. A large, wooden desk was on the right - so new that its strong scent still lingered.

But what struck her the deepest was the window scenery - two sets of glass doorscrowning both sides of the four-poster bed. The translucent curtains danced with the wind as if beckoning her to join them. What laid before her was priceless. The sun was melting, its hues of purple, orange and pink spreading across the sky, tucked into the bed of clouds. She opened the glass doors and stood on the grand balcony, the wind whispering poems of joy to her, singing graceful tunes that only she could hear.

Through the wind and sun brushing her face, she thanked God and prayed. Amita was grateful beyond measure. She closed her eyes and embraced everything around her, sinking into the symphony of-"Dinner will commence at 7:30 pm, Miss Amita. At the Dining Hall. Feel free to freshen up."

Ms. Tina, she had learned, worked in the school's administrations department and was assigned to give Amita a tour today. Ms Tina was very welcoming, but one could easily tell that she was running on a very tight schedule from the speed with which she spoke and the pace she walked. Amita's muscles nearly hurt by the time the tour was over. She could barely recount where they'd been, that was how quickly Tina had rushed through the tour.

Nevertheless, she was brought up to be a gracious and grateful girl, no matter the circumstances of her upbringing.

With quite some effort, she said, "Thank you, Ms. Tina."

With a swift nod, the former left.

As soon as her luggage was dropped off, she decided to heed Ms Tina's suggestion of freshening up.

She carefully entered the bathroom, afraid she would dirty the extensively kept place with her own filth. As this was her first time using a bathtub, Amita took a little longer than expected to figure out the mechanism, nearly scalding her hand when she turned the temperature knob too far to the right. Plopping in a sandal-wood scented bath bomb into the tub, the water just right, she stripped herself bare and stepped in, closing her eyes as the unimaginable sensation of warm water loosened her tight muscles. Carefully, she opened her favourite book, making sure to not let it touch the water, and devoured every word that pecked at her imagination.

Mustering all the self-control she could harness, she peeled herself away from the tub and wiped herself off. She applied a citrus-smelling lotion she found in her dorm room to her body along with her other usual products then put on an airy white dress that fell just below her knees, but still giving her freedom to move around.

Again, she visited her now-favourite sunset balcony - breathing in the evening air, savouring every moment of this beauty. Serenity. Her mother always prayed for serenity. The thought made her wish she could show her mother this - to let her know that the serenity she wished for was indeed true, even through a sunset-lit balcony in a teenage girl's room.

The grand clock in the school sounded seven times. She let the air whisper past her, slid into her white sneakers, then ventured downstairs.

* * *

With half an hour to spare, Amita decided she would revisit the route Ms. Tina had rushed her through earlier and take a stroll around the school. After meticulously retracing her steps, she made it back to the school's entrance - or rather it was known as the Grand Entrance with two golden double-doors propped open, letting the balmy air breeze past. After a wash of cool air-conditioning against her dress, she stepped forward and took in the interior of the place.

In just one glance, no one would pick up that this was a school. It was more of a hotel lobby. But not just any hotel lobby - this place looked like it was reserved for royalty, or at the very least, nobility. As she proceeded onward, she noticed that everywhere she looked, there stood expensive-looking finery. Chandeliers, unique light designs, plush curtains and even to the very minute details such as the translucent gold-coloured chess set that stood proudly on one of the coffee tables that lay between the array of sofas, set in the waiting area.

On her right was the Admissions Office and on her left lay a 'mini-art gallery' as per what Ms. Tina had said. But Amita deigned to disagree - this corridor display was filled with state-of-the -art paintings, sculptures, fashion figure-drawings and such more. It was only when she stopped at one of the paintings titled 'Skyfall' listed with a student's name and year group that she paused.

This was done by a student? she thought, stunned. It was of a girl, clad in see-through silk, falling through the sky in a most delicate manner. Oil-painted, with a brush technique she couldn't quite place a finger on-

"I am going to kill that bi-"

"Enough, Maliqa. It's orientation week and I want peace. Plus, Jayce is fine."

Amita could not help herself but to eavesdrop. She was well-hidden between the art-gallery walls when those voices thundered through. They seemed to have pushed through those beautiful doors Amita admired, aggressively, then stormed with violent footsteps against the polished marble flooring.

"Fine? That's all you can conclude, huh? That he's fine," spat a voice venomously. Whoever it was, she assumed they were very pissed off. From what she could hear, this came from the angry female who she assumed was the girl addressed as 'Maliqa.'

"Look, I don't know what happened between the two of you last summer, but from what I know, you and Jayce are over. So stop acting like he's yours. The doctors said he was fine and recovering," came the other male voice, exasperated, reprimanding the female one.

The girl huffed, clearly frustrated, then lowered her voice. Amita had to tiptoe forward from her current position to hear the next line.

"A fucking chandelier fell on him, Dylan. You saw it with your own two eyes. And not just any chandelier. The chandelier. Not only did the concussion knock him out for two days, but he was flooded with glass. We can only imagine how gruesome that surgery must have been, having to pick out nits and pricks of shards scattered everywhere through his body-"

"Cut it. I know Jayce and he's a strong guy. He'll be fine," Dylan argues, sounding exhausted.

Maliqa let out another angry sigh, indicating she was going to blow. "If Laena-"

"Please, Maliqa. Just, not tonight. We'll check on him tomorrow," said a softer voice. This voice was like a lamb personified.

Maliqa this time gave a sigh of surrender. "Fine. Let's go. We have 15 minutes left."

"See, what did I tell you?" teased Dylan, "It will all be fine."

A sound of clothing ruffling followed along with a yelp from the boy. Clearly, Maliqa had elbowed him.

Only when she was certain the footsteps had faded and the voices were gone did she emerge. Letting out a breath she had unconsciously been holding during her eavesdropping session, she decided she would venture out to dinner. From what Ms. Tina had said, dinner was in the Buffet Hall. This was not in the student's quarters, however. It was a general space where the school usually hosted special parent-committee events. But since it was only orientation week, the faculty decided to host tonight's dinner there instead.

The problem was, at the pace Ms. Tina had raced her through, she did not remember how to get there.

She walked out of the Grand Entrance block - where Ms. Tina said they entertained visitors, prospective students and guests alike. The evening air brushed her face welcomingly, making her forget the notion that she could possibly get lost in this large space, moreover in the dark.

There were only a handful of students walking around the Cultivated Gardens as she remembered. Bordering the space in a square-like shape were more architecture of the school, which she would slowly have to recall what they were later on once the term started.

For now, the only thing that snatched her attention was the beautifully lit garden before her. It was certainly a work of art, but also an obstacle before she could get to the other side where she assumed the Buffet Hall was. For it wasn't just a garden.

It was a very large hedge maze.

Deciding she had time to spare and not having been in one before, Amita walked straight into the gorgeously trimmed set of bushes.

Bad idea.

She was lost. Her breathing began running laps as the sky grew darker and everywhere she turned was just yet another dead-end.

Who on earth would create a hedge maze like this? she thought, growing frustrated."Some idiots with cash to throw around, I suppose," a voice spoke from behind one of the bushes.

Amita jumped. She had not realised she'd even said it aloud. It was then she noticed that this voice sounded familiar.

"Though I have to admit, it certainly keeps intruders away. I always knew someone was bound to get lost here. Seems I won the bet," the voice continued.

"Would you mind telling me," she pushed her rose-gold, metal-rimmed glasses up her nose bridge, "who you are?"

"How about you tell me who you are? It's unusual for an Aphrodite to get lost in this infamous maze."

Offended and mouth agape, she was about to reply when she was cut off-

"How do I know you're not the intruder I always suspected there would one day be?" the voice said, coming closer to where she's standing.She scoffed, "Please, with such high security and in a school like this? I think not."

She paused as a boy now stood before her. "So you say you are not an intruder but you got lost in the maze. Care to explain?" he teased.

His facial features, so soft, so unique that it made him seem twice as attractive as his voice. Dark brown hair that glinted in the night, as if the stars and him knew a secret language, but his smile was a weapon unleashed. It made him almost fantastical , so much so that Amita was certain she was just standing within another page of a novel she read.

"No, this is not a novel and I am very much real, but thank you," he remarked, offering a very boyish, smug smile.

Heat travelled up her neck as a blush erupted over her cheeks. Unable to meet his eyes, she choked out awkwardly, "What exactly did I say?"

"You said you thought I was fantastical and that you're probably in a novel." He raised his eyebrow, leaningcloser.

"Hmm," was all Amita could let out as the blush grew.

"Hmm," the boy echoed, clearly stifling a laugh. She too felt like laughing.

So they did. Amita laughed, letting the awkwardness of the situation fade away, only to then be enraptured with this boy's beautiful laugh. It was a song of no other. A symphony. She wondered if he actually did sing.

As both of them recovered from their laughter, Amita was the first to speak, "Let's start again, shall we?"

The humour lingers on him, settling into a sweet smile on his face. "Very well."

They paused.

"Do you want me to walk back into the bush again-"

"What? Of course not-

"I'm just playing," and they both laughed again. It seemed as if they were the only two in this evening scene.

Holding out a hand with that same smile on his face, he introduced himself.  "Dylan Jonas."

Returning the smile, she shook his hand. "Amita Chandran."

It was then the cogs in her mind stopped turning and finally clicked into place.

Dylan. Dylan? Oh, Dylan. Ah. That Dylan.

Forcing her mind to stray away from her criminal act of eavesdropping on the conversation she was very sure he was involved in, she continued, "I'm new here. That's why I'm lost. I can assure you that I'm no intruder." She released his soft yet firm hands from her grip. "I do not possess the skills it takes to invade such highly guarded places."

"You never know, it might all be a part of your facade. Perhaps I caught you red-handed and-"

"You know what, Dylan, why don't you actually return to the bush, hmm?"

"Okay, okay," he threw his arms up in surrender, "I trust you."He began walking onward but Amita did not follow. His brows furrowed, "Shall we?"

"Shall we what?" she questioned.

"Well, unless you are so keen on getting lost again, I'm going to escort you."

She immediately felt guilty - he could've been busy earlier. "Oh- it's fine, you need not-"

"I insist," he replied.

"Were you not headed anywhere earlier?" She decided to check.

"Nope. I am headed to the same place you are. Dinner, I assume?"

She nodded.

"Then it would be my pleasure." He offered his hand, indicating her to walk by his side.They walked side by side, through the sweet-smelling flowers, the droopy sun their only witness. As she walked, she wondered if her life at St. Aphrodite's could get any better.

If only she knew.