The Frostlake Inheritance

Wailings echoed from a compound in Frostlake. Donovan Moore, the popular woodcarver of Jimal, was dead.

His wife, Pauline, wailed, inconsolable. Her sister, Kathryn, quickly took their daughter, Janielle, to the next village in Frostlake.

A year passed. "Jani, warm the porridge and give it to Zoe," Kathryn shouted from her room. Your mother had left you here, knowing she couldn't afford the education you needed. You’d grown into a beautiful girl, lively and lovely like your late father.

You quickly warmed the porridge for your cousin, Zoe. She’d never liked you, not since you’d arrived. At first, she’d been nice, but that was just the shock of your father’s death. When she realized you were staying longer, the hate started, for no reason you could figure out. You didn't care much though, you knew you’d be leaving them soon.