The Rica Academy Chronicles: Book 1 – Flora Faye and the Secret of Rica Academy

The afternoon sun streamed through the living room window as Flora Faye sat cross-legged on the floor, a mystery novel open in her hands. She had been reading for nearly two hours. The dishes in the kitchen remained untouched. The laundry basket sat forgotten near the stairs. And the cup of juice her mother had brought her thirty minutes ago was still sitting on the table. Flora wasn't paying attention to any of it. She was too busy trying to figure out who had stolen the priceless diamond in the story she was reading. "There are only three suspects," she muttered. "It has to be the gardener." A voice came from the kitchen. "Flora, that's exactly what you said about the last book." Flora looked up. Her mother, Amelia Faye, stood in the doorway with her arms crossed. "The gardener was innocent." Flora grinned. "Well, this gardener looks guilty." Amelia laughed softly. "You've accused three innocent gardeners this month." Flora closed her book dramatically. "One day I'll be right." "You should spend less time solving fictional mysteries and more time helping me with dinner." Flora stood and stretched. "That's impossible." "And why is that?" "Because the world needs great detectives." "The world also needs people who wash dishes." Flora groaned. Her mother smiled. Moments like these were normal in the Faye household. It had always been just the two of them. Amelia worked hard. Flora studied hard. And every evening they somehow found themselves arguing about books, movies, or whose turn it was to clean. Flora secretly loved it. "Fine," she said. "I'll help." "Thank you." "But if a mysterious stranger appears at the door while I'm washing dishes, I'm leaving immediately." Amelia rolled her eyes. "Of course you are." Just then, there was a knock. Both of them froze. Flora's eyes widened. Amelia sighed. "No." "It could be a mysterious stranger." "It's probably the mailman." Flora rushed to the door anyway. When she opened it, nobody was there. Only a single envelope resting on the welcome mat. She blinked. "Okay," she said slowly. "That's a little strange." Amelia walked over. "It's just a letter." But Flora wasn't so sure. The envelope looked old. The paper was thick and cream-colored. Most importantly... Her name was written on it. In elegant silver ink. Miss Flora Faye Flora exchanged a glance with her mother. Neither of them spoke for a moment. Then Flora smiled. A slow smile. The kind she always got when she sensed a mystery. "I have a feeling," she said, picking up the envelope carefully, "that this is going to be interesting." And for once... She was right.