The night is always darkest before dawn, so if your going to steal your neighbor’s newspaper, that’s the time to do it. On the other hand if you’re jogging seven miles through the freezing northern Canadian air, you might want to reconsider.

It was September 5th, School started in less than a week and I was super psyched. Our last minute trip to the Canadian Rockies had thrown me off a little but I had still managed to pack my trunk more than a week before. My enthusiastic mood about the start of school was so contagious that it was even touching my moaning senior sister Riley, who was staying in New York to go to Grant High. My little sister Alice was only nine and her drifting thoughts were ever always looming in the summer months.
I go to Kent Wood (Yes, that Kent Wood.) I know what you’re thinking, I must be a super genius, but actually I’m not. I am one of the few they call naturals.
Yes, Kent Wood is super hard academically. Yes, it’s next to impossible to get in to. And yea, if you have the slightest inclination of hope to go there you’d better squash it now, because if you’re over the age of eleven and you don’t attend then you probably won’t ever.
Kent Wood is more than it seems though. It may be one of the most prestigious schools on the East Coast and cost almost more than college, but it is one of six international schools that gets the title, Spy Academy.
Kent Wood was, in fact, a training facility for Adolescent Preliminary Espionage, or spies. Nobody knows that though, which is how Kent Wood became one of the best-kept secrets in American History because of course, if my school was normal then it wouldn’t be a secret.


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Our tan suburban zoomed down the paved road engulfed in dampness and the vibrant hues of the changing leaves. The Vermont foliage surrounded us completely, only pausing to peak at a lonely mountain here and there. The bright orange forest strode on streaking by the narrow dripping streams and mossy fallen trees.

My younger sister Alice sat in the bucket seat next to me swaddled in a thick afghan sleeping silently. She was draped in the most awkward looking position, but she was peaceful. Her eyelids were thick with slumber, her small round face was rosy from the gentle car heater, and her delicate blonde curls were wisped across her pale forehead.

I sat staring out the tinted window-my eyes glued open-to excited to sleep. The expansive Vermont forest seemed never ending, but I knew better. Rolling mountain peaks teased me in the distance and after what seemed like forever, the forest came to a break and the mountains came into view. I quickly picked out Mount Addle and Genevieve the two, which, in between, rested the school of my dreams: Kent Wood.

Kent Wood was located in lovely Gullsburough, Vermont and I knew that I would never get tired of seeing the pretty little town. Gullsburough was a ski resort town located at the base of Mount Addle. On the outskirts it was dotted with antique red barns and rolling patches of grassland and deciduous forest. Closer into town you could see the beautiful mountain side cottages which were built right into the land and side walks that were glued with soaking flattened leaves. The chairlifts were at a stand still practically begging for ski season so that they could get the ache out of the soldered thick wire they hung on. People flurried in and out of renovated old barns that were now markets and shops for the locals.
The car sped by and I felt a strange sense of ease. It was that feeling you got after you went away to sleep away camp for the summer and were finally returning home. The ache in my heart that I had never realized was there until now had subsided. I looked at the jolly hustling people in long sleeved shirts and jeans moving about as we curved through the little town. I watched as a truck pulled up emptying a heard of teenagers who embraced the teens on the sidewalk and felt pleasantly happy.
Soon enough, we were edging farther away from the little town. This was when I got excited; the sight of the little town had put me into a frenzied happiness. I pondered what I was going to say about my dismal summer with my ordinary parents to my friends who spent their vacation time in the various countries of Europe with their super-spy parents. I decided to tell them about my trial at water skiing that would be sure to spur interesting stories.
I was in the middle of arguing with my self when my mother announced that we had arrived then, my face was glued to the window. A few feet down the road I spied the piled stone pillars and the thick mahogany beam connecting the two pillars into a wide arch. Hanging from the solid wood arch was the painted forest green wooden sign that said Kent Wood Academy in gold lettering.
We turned off the main road and the sound of the crunching dirt rock road beneath the tires was almost too much. We drove up the road a while farther then entered through the iron gates of Kent Wood. More forest surrounded the grounds of Kent Wood but this forest was different, it had a golden glow to it, but maybe that was because it was the school’s property. Looking into the mountains I could see the winding clearing of the muddy ski slopes and the bronze of the aspen trees and finally I spotted the school.
The building was a mix between an Ancient English Castle and a Snow White fairy-tale cottage. The entire building was made of green grey stone with beautiful crescent windows and expansive sections. The roof was a brilliant copper and the elegant siding held some intricate tutor design. The building flashed many beautiful balconies and an entire section of outdoor patio surrounded by a five-foot protective wall. The school sat on a piece of pure green manicured lawn, the first few feet of surrounding trees a dark green the rest disappearing into a thick mountain fog. Girls unloaded their limos and fancy cars squealing as they met up with their friends, while the boys hung stealthily but the forest rim. While the school sat motionless and occupied it was hard to believe that this elite prep school would turn into one of the most deadly buildings in the world in a matter of hours.