THE LAST PEYTON | 1

CHAPTER ONE

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c h a p t e r o n e

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        "DO IT AGAIN, MISS PEYTON," Ms. Susie demands. I don't dare disobey her, knowing what would happen if I do. I've only ever had to spend one night in the wretch room, and I never plan on having to do it again.

I pick up another knife off the table behind me, readying my stance to throw it at the target shaped as a human. Knives have never been my specialty. My hands are too shaky to ever get a good grip on them, and it's so easy for them to slip from my grasp. Ask me to fire an arrow at the target from forty yards away, no problem. The knife, on the other hand, is a whole different story.

Still, I somehow manage an adequate throw in front of Ms. Susie this time. Luck is on my side, I suppose. The knife sticks to the shoulder of the target. Not where I was aiming, but what Ms. Susie didn't know wouldn't hurt her. If asked why I didn't go for the heart, I'd reply with a smart comment about how I was trying to injure, not kill. I would get praised for thinking outside of the box instead of getting scolded or taken to the wretch room.

Ms. Susie didn't say anything—which meant she was satisfied with my work—and just continued on her way down the line of girls as they all threw knives into each of their respective targets.

I sigh in relief once she's out of earshot, allowing myself to relax now that the intimidating woman is gone. At Canyon Ridge School for Girls, one of the most important ideals that is taught is to never be intimidated by another. However, living up to that standard proves to be very hard when we are all surrounded by some of the most terrifying, intimidating women who have ever walked the earth.

No, I am not exaggerating. Canyon Ridge School for Girls only accepts the absolute best—at least that's what their slogan says—and that applies to both the students and staff. Ms. Leighton Susie—before she was offered this teaching position—was one of the best ELITIST spies there ever was. She was up at the top of the ranks alongside my parents.

I got to spend a solid eleven years with my parents before they were killed in a covert ops mission. I wasn't allowed to know any of the details, which of course made me frustrated. The agent covering my parents' case just suggested that I give it up; nobody was going to tell me anything since the information was classified. He was right. My parents' death remains a mystery to me even to this day.

I try not to think about it, and for the most part it works, but then when the end of the school year comes around, and I see everyone being picked up by their families, I begin to wonder again. What really happened to them?

The plan wasn't always for me to go to Canyon Ridge School for Girls. It was my parents' dream for me to go to their alma mater, Tutwiler Academy. When it was time for me to start the seventh grade—the standard year most ELITIST schools begin at—however, neither of them were there to send letters of recommendation, so I accepted my offer to go to the second best ELITIST school in the nation. Now, four years later, I'm one of the best students they have. 

"Knives down. Time for lunch, ladies. Head straight to the cafeteria, then it's military logistics time," Ms. Susie demands, and with that, we all make haste towards the cafeteria.

The lunches are pretty good here. The kitchen staff are excellent and are much kinder than the teachers. They always make sure everyone gets enough to eat, knowing how much work—both mental and physical—we go through on a daily basis.

I smile softly at Regina—my favorite lunch lady by far—as she places some spaghetti on my tray. Sometimes I like to imagine what their lives are like outside this school. Is Regina married? Does she have kids? What does she do when she's not here?