maybe it was fate that brought them together. these girls all came from very different backgrounds, dangerous, rebellious, posh, catholic, you name it. each girl received an letter lined with gold and sealed with a specific wax flower that somehow aligned with each. inside was an invitation to stay at a mansion in the french countryside for vague family reasons. everyone was told a different story, maybe their distant aunt died and the house belonged to them, or there was a funeral for a cousin. either way, the girls were all lied to.

❦

may 24th, 1979 - auxerre, france

isla gazed at the swirling smoke as it faded into the sky. her cigarette was down to a stub, so she was dragging it out as long as possible. from her balcony she could hear distant bikes and people talking, but it was mostly silent, since everyone was in church. she lay in her sleep dress on old lounge chair that's once vibrant blue was now faded from the sun. normally her grey tabby francis would be curled up by her feet, but he went missing three days ago. 

she takes another slow drag from her blunt and lets the smoke tickle her throat before slowly blowing it towards the clouds. sunday mornings are usually lazy in this town. everything is closed so there's truly nothing to do except lay in the sun until your cigarette burns out. 

a letter hits her arm and isla scares. 

"found it on my doorstep, wind must've blown it." a familiar voice murmurs. isla sits up and picks up the letter.

"thanks daniel" she forms a small smile before her brow furrows. "why aren't you at church? I saw your brother leave a while ago."

daniel leans on the sliding door frame and looks away. "don't really care for it. pierre and mom are the more religious in the family. I only went for them."

"mm."

daniel lives next door, and the two have known each other their whole lives. isla doesn't care much for friendship, but she would consider daniel her closest friend. he's always had shaggy dirty blonde hair that covered his forehead and a particularly bad taste in fashion, according to isla. he'd rather wear a striped button up with cutoff shorts and dress shoes rather than anything relatively comfortable. she always swore he was part english because of how posh he dressed, regardless of their low class lives. 

"well, open your letter. if it's lined in gold there's gotta be something worth knowing." 

she had forgotten about the letter but it's presence in her hand was felt again. her fingers slide along the opening, careful not to rip such a beautiful letter. 

"read it aloud."

"isla valeria beswick, you are cordially invited to the memorial of life of james beswick. you were mentioned by name in mr. beswick's will. to receive your share, you will stay at the château du magnolia until affairs are in order. when you arrive to the train station in arles, call and we will send a car. come as soon as possible. best wishes, jacques."

the two look at each other in silent surprise. 

"daniel, how would you like to take a trip to the south of france?" isla grins.

❦