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I don't remember exactly when I could start to read minds. 

My Dad always said that it started when I was a baby, and I grew to manifest into it throughout my life. "You're special, Nora," I remember him saying, lifting me into the air, "You have a gift." I giggled then, not knowing that meant I could read every private thought my classmates, teachers, and random passerby on the street had. If I had, I would've slapped him.

You didn't tell me about this. It's a curse, not some stupid gift from God. I can't say that to him, of course. I still love Dad, even if he's been lying to me for seventeen years. I've learned to control it since I found out that there's no getting rid of it. 

It's a part of me, forever and always.

My father is a superhero. He's not the kind that wears spandex and smiles for impromptu photo-ops, but the kind that saves the world once and suddenly becomes an acclaimed part of American history. A legend.

He's loved the burden that comes with being a telepath. The knowledge contorts him, the power  rots his brain, and the unspoken secrets that he's learned are his own unopened Pandora's box. It excites him, the fact that he can know everything. 

I hate it all. The fact that every piece of knowledge swims around my brain, driving me insane half of the time. People think I'm smart, but I'm just a cheater with the mind of an elephant. I can forget nothing. 

So yeah, it's a lot of fun being a telepath. If I could get rid of it, I could.

But it is unfortunately my burden to bear, so I bear  it.

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I'm lost. I never get lost.

The Aurelia School for the Wicked and Vile is a labyrinth. I've heard kids who say it's to defend from the outside, but their thoughts say something different. 

Invasion.

This school is filled with secrets, but I can easily crack secrets like an egg. I can get to them, if I can find the main office, of course. 

My high heels click on the Roman tile floors, echoing in the empty hallway. My red ponytail swishes and bounces behind me, and the lipstick that I forced myself to put on this morning is dry against my mouth.

 This is the fifth hallway I've gone down, each hallway having turned up a dead end. The castle itself is massive, five stories tall and fifty rooms on each floor, most of them being classrooms, but some other ones being boys and girls dorms. If we were in Virginia, a castle as large as this would be the envy of the neighbors, but people here walk down the halls like it's no big deal that we're literally in a palace.

There are no maps given out at the door. No 'You are Here' signs in case you get lost. It's a test of wills, a metaphoric game that I'm determined to win.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing in a place as ugly as this?" A male voice calls from behind me, and I turn, startled. A flaw of mine: I get so lost in my thoughts sometimes that I forget to reach out and see if anyone is with me.

And, damn, there's someone with me.

The boy who pushes off the wall and walks towards me is nothing short of attractive. Tall, dark and handsome, the boy is nothing short of a heartbreaker. His black is is closely cut to his scalp and his brown eyes sparkle with amusement as he strides towards me, stopping only a few inches from my face.

"Devon." It takes me a few seconds to realize that he's introducing himself to me, and I shake my head, putting my bags down and waving. His accent is British through and through, and it takes a couple minutes for me to realize what he said.

"Nora."

"You 're lost, aren't you?" Devon cuts right to the point, picking up my bag and turning back to me, "I've been here for a week, and it's become pretty easy to tell when somebody is lost."

"Is this your idea of fun? Torturing the newbies?" I shoot back, grabbing the two bags that he didn't get and slinging them over my shoulders. If I could only get him to show me to the main office...

"None of them really talk back though," Devon says, following me up the stairs, "You're looking for the girls dormitories, I'm guessing."

"Madame Aurelia's office, actually," Devon whistles, shaking his head and laughing, "What?"

"You've got some guts, you know that? Madame Aurelia doesn't allow children in to see her. Nobody knows where her office is, and that's the way she's going to keep it," Devon walks across the hall to the stairs leading to the second floor, "I can, however, show you where the girl's dormitory is for the initiates."

"Do you go there often or something?" Devon blushes, and I smile. The stairs leading to the second floor are short, and soon, we reach the top, taking the hallway to the right.

"Something like that." He says, stopping in front of a heavy wooden door, "Anyways, here's the dorms. There should be somebody inside to help you get settled," He knocks on the door and then turns back to me, "Do you want me to come in? I can-"

"I'll tell your girlfriends you said hi." He actually laughs this time, a sharp, pleasant sound and I picture the sun coming through the clouds on a stormy day.

She's hot and has a sense of humor. I've hit the jackpot. A stray thought floats towards me, and I resist the urge to smile. Boys will be boys. I just need to focus on finding Madame Aurelia.

The esteemed headmistress of this school is hiding something, and I need to figure out what it is. 

"Nora, hi! We've been expecting you!" A perky blonde teenager who looks to be about three years older than me opens the door, a ball of light in the palm of her hand. The dorm looks like party central, loud music blasting through speakers positioned on all three sides of the room. A handful of girls pause and turn towards us, eyes wide. "Welcome to Lunar House. Would you like a tour?"

"S-sure." Devon slips away and I'm left with a bunch of perky teenagers, most of them staring at me ravenously. They all look like they'd eat me in a heartbeat.

One thing my Dad told me about Aurelia's was that it's kill or be killed, eat or be eaten. The competition here is stiff, with only one hundred spots open for the freshman class.

There are two hundred initiates. I need to be one of the one hundred to make it in.

The lives of heroes and villains' could depend on it.

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"Listen to me, Nora,"  Dad stoops down to face me, blue eyes wide, and face bright white, "You will be thrown out or killed if they find out who you are." The last conversation I had with Dad replays in my head, not a single detail out of place.

Perfect memory has its perks.

"Then don't make me go." I said, finishing tying my combat boots, "Ask another school to take me in." My brown eye began to tear up, but I wiped it away, smearing some black mascara against my hand. I willed myself to not cry and stood, looking Dad right in the eye. 

"Nora, you need to go. People have to know what's going on there." 

"Why me though?" I saw my reflection in his glasses. One brown eye and one blue eye stared back at me, a stormy, conflicted mess of emotions. 

I was born with two different colored eyes, a condition that doctors liked to call 'Heterochromia iridum'. It was another thing that made me stand out, not just my telepathy. Kids walked up to me and called me a 'freak' or a 'mutant' all the time, but it never bothered me. 

Being different was my way to blend in. I stopped trying to make friends, stopped talking to really anybody, and just clung to myself for ten years.

It worked well for me, until I got the letter from Aurelia's. Now, it's almost impossible for me to blend in.

"Because, Nora," Dad said, bringing the last of  the bags over to me, "You're the only hero who's managed to get invited to Aurelia's. I'm worried about what Madame Aurelia might be planning, and I need you to tell me so I can report it to the Order."

"What if you're overreacting? I've told you, I don't care about your world. I don't want to be a hero, and I especially don't want to do espionage work at a school where people would be willing to kill me." My voice hitched an octave, getting louder by the second.

"Nora, just trust me," Dad said, opening the door and bringing my bags out to the taxi, "If you don't find anything, I'll remove you from there next semester, I promise you."

"Dad-" 

"Your mothers life depends on it." I froze, hand positioned just over the taxicab door. 

"She's dead," I muttered, face as white as a sheet, "She's been dead for five years."

"She's alive and she needs your help." I heard nothing after that.

The only thing I heard were the words ringing in my ears. Alive. Alive. Alive

My mother is alive.