Chapter Eleven
Rosaline's POV:
I stare at the house towering over me. Its roof is curved like horns and painted the colour of blood.
The structure looks weird for a building that high. To the residents, this was a mansion but to me, this was a prison.
The maid approaches me with her well-rehearsed plastered smile once I walk.
My heart races as I follow her. Not because of fear but something else. Dread? Consciousness? I don't know.
She leads me to a door and opens it. My palm feels greasy when I cross the threshold and I wipe them on my skirt. No effect.
The maid bows to the seat backing us and leaves with her back to the door.
Mr Sylvester's father turns in his seat. His eyes meet mine and my heart skips. I work a smile to my lips and as usual, he ignores it.
He groans and
