A Terrible Idea Called Kane Smith

Evelyn's POV

Some people say change always comes quietly.

Bullshit.

Change always kicks the door down, with a brutal honesty that screams "don't you dare pretend you're sleeping."

At least, that's how it is for me.

My name is Evelyn Gray. I'm eighteen, high school graduate, no college acceptance letters, no life plan, not even a decent job. I live in a cramped apartment, sleep during the day, work night shifts at a convenience store, living a life stuck on repeat.

Today was supposed to be just another day nobody cared about.

I got home, didn't even bother turning on the lights, just collapsed on the couch, ready to sleep forever.

Suddenly, a loud bang.

I shot up from the couch.

"What the hell?"

Another loud bang.

Someone was hitting my window.

I instantly went on alert, grabbed a magazine from the coffee table and moved toward the window.

The outdoors were pitch black; through the rain and fog, I couldn't see a thing. I took a deep breath and yanked the curtain open.

Then I froze.

What was that—a dark blanket flying?!

The blanket's fringed edges rippled through the rain, like a manta ray gliding across water!

The most absurd part was there was actually someone sitting on it.

A long, dark coat billowed in the wind, with a hood covering most of their face. They raised an arm and hurled something toward my window.

I stared in disbelief as the magic carpet carried that person and disappeared into the sky.

It took me a while to snap out of it.

I must have seen it wrong. Yeah, definitely saw it wrong.

But there was a letter wedged in the gap of my window frame.

I found it rather unsettling and didn't dare to take it. I had already gone back inside, but then I turned around and returned.

Okay, I admit I was a bit curious.

I reached out and pulled the envelope out, my fingers stiff from the cold.

A wax seal stamped with an intricate crest—a bird with outstretched wings at its center, encircled by symbols I couldn't decipher.

No name on the envelope, no address, no postmark.

I turned the envelope over several times, and finally tore it open.

The paper quality was astonishingly fine. Even though the edges had been dampened by the rain, it still had an indescribable, luxurious feel.

The letter inside was handwritten, elegant and flowing, with a faint scent of ink.

But when I read the content, I froze.

It said: [Evelyn, you have been accepted to Thornwick Academy. September 1st, bring this letter and the enclosed item to 47 Charing Cross Road to report. No late arrivals accepted. —Headmaster Seraphina Ashworth]

I stared at those lines for a long time, my mind completely blank.

Thornwick Academy? I had never heard of it, and I clearly remembered that every university I had applied to had sent me a rejection letter.

Besides, I'd never applied to any place called "Thornwick Academy."

Something else was clinking inside the envelope. I turned it over and gave it a gentle shake, and a key fell out.

Longer than my finger, completely black with dark gold patterns. The key handle was carved into a bird with folded wings, its eyes two tiny rubies glowing faintly in the darkness.

A slender silver chain passed through the key ring, making it just right to wear around the neck.

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding.

Could someone tell me what the hell is going on?

When the wave of fear swept through me, I instinctively thought of my grandfather, Arthur Gray—a retired old professor and the only family I had left in this world.

My parents died when I was very young. He raised me, living in an old house in the countryside of Amber District. Eccentric, but soft-hearted as hell.

At this moment, faced with this unfathomable key and this inexplicable acceptance letter, only one thought crossed my mind:

The old man definitely knows something.

So at dawn, I got on the train to Amber District.

Grandpa lived at the far east end of the village. I pushed open the door and shouted inside.

"Grandpa!"

He lowered his eyes, and his face changed, like someone who had been carrying a secret for far too long and had at last arrived at the moment of revelation.

"Grandpa!"

I called again, and he woke with a start.

"Who—Evelyn?"

He frowned. "Why are you here? Didn't you say you had to work this week?"

I slapped the letter down on the book in front of him.

He dropped his gaze, and his expression shifted, like someone who had held a secret for too long and was finally facing the moment of truth.

"You received it," he said.

"You know what this is?" I took the key off my neck. "Someone banged on my window at four in the morning and threw this thing in. Thornwick Academy? I never applied to this place."

Arthur rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I submitted the application."

"What?"

"I submitted the application for you," he said, looking up at me. "Thornwick Academy isn't an ordinary school, Evelyn. It's designed specifically for special students."

"What special students?"

Instead of answering directly, he walked to the far end of the bookshelf, took out a manila envelope, and handed it to me.

"When you were three, they reached out to me. They said they had detected abnormal energy fluctuations in you—that you were an 'unawakened shapeshifter.'"

I froze.

"Shapeshifter?"

"People who can change form. Different bloodlines correspond to different forms. Most shapeshifters naturally manifest during puberty, but you didn't. They waited fifteen years with no sign, until last year when you turned eighteen—they detected the fluctuations again."

"Hold on." I felt completely lost. "What are you talking about? Is this some kind of joke?"

"I'm just a normal person. I always have been."

How could a normal person turn into an animal?

Arthur looked at me calmly, and his gaze made me uneasy.

"Thornwick Academy isn't an ordinary school. That world has its rules, its dangers, and its reasons worth going for. You can go, or you can choose not to. No one will force you."

He paused, then added, "Seraphina said if you received the letter, it means you're ready."

"I'm not ready—not ready for anything! This is insane!"

"That's where you belong, child," Arthur repeated.

I fell silent. Where I belong? I didn't know.

But what if that place was truly meant for me? What if I let go of the only chance I had to understand myself...

I closed my eyes and gripped the envelope tightly.

"September 1st, 47 Charing Cross Road."

Arthur nodded.

"You're... not going to stop me?"

He glanced at me. "Child, go where you belong."

I hung the key back around my neck and clutched it tightly.

"Go on, child. If you agree, you'll have to leave within a week."

The rain outside had stopped.

A line of pale light appeared on the eastern horizon.

I didn't know what 47 Charing Cross Road was, didn't know what was waiting for me at this so-called "Thornwick Academy," and had no idea what would happen when a shapeshifter who'd never shifted went there.

But I didn't want to keep drifting anymore.

I carefully tucked the letter into my pocket and turned to walk out of the study.

When I reached the door, I looked back. Arthur had already put his reading glasses back on and turned back to the page in that thick book, as if nothing had happened.

"Grandpa."

"What?"

"Thank you."

He didn't look up, just turned another page.

I stepped out of the old house and looked at the gray horizon stretching into the distance.

September 1st. Seven days left.

I took a deep breath and gripped the key tight in my palm.