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halanx was another world. It wasn’t really that far from Primrose, and Primrose, of course, had its own issues. Primrose was full of people that her mother would have primly and proudly declared ungodly, and despite her time away, Violet-Anne would still agree with that value judgement. Primrose had the worst of the cream of the crop, but it had also been her home for more than five years. It had given her the first sweet taste of freedom, and in the bustling school, she could press herself away from the crowd and practically disappear. But Phalanx? Even from the outside, Phalanx was loud. It was garish. It was crowded. It was… It wasn’t Primrose, not that Primrose had been perfect either. Primrose had been the evil she knew, but Phalanx radiated warmth. It smiled at her the way that the older church ladies had smiled at her, offering plates of fresh cookies and hard strawberry candies. She knew how that turned out, though.
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Really, she shouldn’t have been surprised. Her time at Primrose was running out. Her twentieth birthday wasn’t far away, and even if they kept her until twenty-two, it would come quicker than she pleased. As it were, she was being pushed, wholeheartedly, out of the nest, and the only place she had to land was a twin bed in a cramped room in Phalanx. Going home was absolutely not an option. It never had been, but her last conversation with her mother had put the final nail in that coffin. Lake Charles was no more her home than Primrose was. Her grief for the severed line was quiet and personal, and as long as she could stay away from news of her father, it could stay that way.
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She shifted her backpack and picked back up the two small, vintage suitcases that held everything she didn’t want boxed up. Even inside the house, only a few boxes waited for her; her belongings were limited and modest. Aside from her record collection and player, it was mostly clothing, including her now useless Primrose uniforms. If she could get the patches off, she could salvage the blazers at least. For all her mother did, she also taught her pragmatism and practical skills. That was some small solace. She set one suitcase down on the porch and knocked twice. As she waited for an answer, she called up that practiced and measured smile. And that was another skill from her mother.