Letters (Book 1)

Letter 1

Dear Milo

I, Brielle Xiomara Catlyn Reyes-Liang, stood still in front of the looming ancient oak doors that led into the very place I despised. Songs from Hamilton filtered through my earbuds, a bit of sound in the otherwise silent night. The smell of food and drink drifted through the air, making my stomach growl. I may or may not have skipped breakfast this morning. Whoops. Don't tell my pops—he says breakfast is the most important meal of the day. He might be right because I'd been starving all day.

To be fair, I had been traveling nonstop, and traveling makes you really hungry. So hungry, in fact, that I ate all the snacks my grandparents gave me within the first two hours of the train ride.

"Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead..."

Burr's voice pulled me back into the present just as the giant doors creaked open. A figure stepped out. The headmaster himself—Albus Dumbledore.

"Ah, Brielle, come in. You must be cold."

He waved me inside. I followed reluctantly, pulling up the neck of my hand-knitted sweater.

"My English is a bit rusty," I muttered under my breath, "but it's all coming back now."
Unfortunately, they had to send me to Britain, not a Spanish-speaking country or a Chinese-speaking one.
Noooo, I had to go to England.
*Massive eye roll*

"Just call me Catlyn, not Brielle," I corrected him. I had no wish to mix this chapter of my life with the other. He just nodded and led me toward the door from which laughter and chatter leaked.

"You'll do great," Dumbledore said, patting my shoulder before disappearing, leaving me there with my bags slung over my shoulder. The door creaked open, and all sound slowly died as every eye turned to me.

I was a sight to see. A black tank top. Dark blue cargo pants. A cream-colored sweater with strawberries and soccer balls embroidered by my gran. My black curls were braided and hung down my back, and my pale blue, very Chinese eyes scanned the room—until they landed on him.

Harry Potter.

"Everyone, please welcome Catlyn Diggory!"

Silence.

Everyone stared.
Yeah. That child.
The one no one knew about.

Apparently, Cedric didn't think it was important to tell his school friends he had a younger half-sister. I couldn't blame him. He never really liked my dad.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward just as the whispers began. Trying to stamp down my nerves, I reached for the dainty gold chain around my neck—one of the parting gifts from my pops and gran, along with the sweater I was wearing.

"Catlyn has already been sorted into Slytherin," Dumbledore announced from the head of the room (how he beat me here, I'll never know). "So please welcome her warmly."

He was clearly getting as fed up with the silence as I was.

I scanned the tables—only one had green. Slytherin. Silver and green, if I remembered correctly from the reading I did. I headed that way, ignoring the stares and whispers.

I was used to it.

The Reyeses were famous in Spain. The Liangs were famous in China. But that's not why they were staring. They were staring because of Cedric.

I turned up my music discreetly and unpacked a small dinner I'd brought with me.

And then—that feeling. Someone was watching me.

I looked up and locked eyes with a boy. Blond hair. Piercing gray eyes that bored straight into me. It was like he could read my thoughts.

I didn't look away.

He blushed first, glancing off to the side as a girl beside him tugged on his sleeve and shot me an icy glare.

-BriBri