Thysia.

ACT SIX.

Plot three.

Airport, NYC.

This is it, Amara was on foreign soil. She felt free, but not the roguish kind, but the satisfactory kind.

Amara: Hello sir, I need to find, never mind.

Amara wanted to ask for direction, but she just saw a driver flash a sign with Fonton and Miss Louis written right under.

Taxi driver: Miss Louis?

Amara: Yes. {she hand her identification and a printed letter from Fonton just like she had been instructed.}

Taxi driver: Let's get you to Fonton then dearie. Let me help with your luggage. Name's Sam.

Amara: Amara. How is Fonton by the way?

Sam; A lot of high and mighty fills their classrooms. You'll love Fonton, Amara. Buckle up.

Amara never knew she shouldn't just have buckled the car seat belts but, the seat belts of her life's vehicle.

***************************************************

Fonton Academy ground.

Amara: Whoa! The architecture here is so grand and modern.

Sam: Rich people, high taste. It is grand, designed by the best of the best, Archwich Construction Companies.

Sam had helped Amara to carry her luggage to the administration Office and she thinks they were there now.

Amara: This is it?

Sam: This is it, Amara.

Amara: Thanks for all your help, Sam.

Sam: You are welcome, Amara. I wish you good luck. Enjoy Fonton.

Amara bid her goodbyes to Sam and opened the white posh door in front of her after staring for five minutes.

She saw a receptionist in the center of the room, a sitting area to her right and to her left 'Fonton Academy; premium experience' written in fine cursive handwriting. She walked to the receptionist.

Receptionist: Hello, how may I help you?

Amara: Hello, I am Amara Louis. I am a scholarship student and I just arrived here.

Receptionist: Oh, Amara Louis. A pleasure to meet you. May I see your identification?

Amara: Here.

Amara handed her a file she had put everything they requested she bring. The receptionist browsed through her documents before looking up and smiling warmly at her.

Receptionist: Welcome to Fonton. I'll just begin the paper work shortly. You'll be taken to your hostel-room but, in the meantime you can seat over there.

Amara: Okay.

Amara was heading to the sitting area before the door opened stopping her in her tracks. A young man dressed in an immaculate black suit and dark shades stepped further into the room barely giving her any attention as he passed by her.

He was probably a bodyguard to one of the high and mighty here, she thought.

Neil: Hello Emily, I have been asked to pick up his paintings.

Emily: hello, Mr. storage. The paintings are over there.

Emily turned to the part of the room where Fonton had been written. There was a dark bag there and on it written Green.

Neil: Thank you.

Neil marched over to his boss' paintings and lifted them. He passed by her again and this time she spoke.

Amara: good day Sir.

Her African greeting mentality kicking in. He looked at her for a moment she could only stare at him, she had his attention now. Why on planet earth did she want his attention?

Neil: Good afternoon.

He said and walked out with quick strides. Few minutes after the bodyguard had left, a young girl, Amara's age walked in. she was dressed in a green top and black jeans she thought cost as much as her current phone. Emily looked up.

Emily: What is it, Alice?

Alice: Ems, this is another one of your highness' paintings.

'Your highness?' Amara stared at the blond weirdly at first before she remembered she was in Fonton. Princes could as well be walking this hallways or princesses?

Emily: What? Mr. Storage just left now. Alice, don't worry just leave it there. I'll call Mr. Storage to COME fetch it. Why would you bring this one late?

Alice: I was engrossed.

Emily: By what, you didn't open it did you, Alice?

Alice looked away.

Emily: You weren't supposed to do that. You know how much highness values his privacy.

Alice: Ems you're not going to tell him. Even you look and see if you won't be as engrossed as I was.

Before Emily could say stop, Alice removed the painting from its bag. The picture was engrossing, beautiful, very beautiful if only it didn't remind her of her past and her secret. The painting was of her a year back with her flaming red hair which was now brown, her peculiar brown eyes which she wore black contacts to cover.

Emily: Amara.

A voice called out to her but, she was lost in the painting. She diverted her head from the painting to stare at Emily and Alice. They stared at her with confused expressions.

Emily: Are you okay, you seemed to have black out?

Amara: I am fine.

Alice stared at the painting in her hand and back at the girl Emily called Amara. She thought, they look alike minus the red hair and eyes. Who was this girl? She then decided to voice her thoughts.

Alice: Who are you?

She stared Amara dead in the eye.