~SCARLETT.

*~FLASHBACK~*

EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD.

The black car came to a halt in front of our mansion. Swinging the door open, I stepped out, and slammed it harder than necessary, my schoolbag dangling from my shoulder.

David, our driver, lowered the window slightly, "Tough day, Miss Scarlett?"

Sighing, I rubbed my forehead. "You could say that."

Today had been a disaster. Mrs. Greene, my history teacher, had finally pushed me too far with her digs about my "privileged life." ...