30
Grace’s cold hand sits on my shoulder. I murmur something and try to turn over in my sleep. Instead, I slip from the chair and fall on to the cold floor. I groan and push myself up. I squint, “What time is it?” Grace grins, “Almost time for breakfast. We received a letter and we’ve been waiting for you to wake so we could open it.” “What kind of letter? Why did you have to wait?” I ask. Alexanne scans the room for any eavesdropping guards before leaning in to whisper, “Florentine.” My eyebrows bunch together, “Why would she send us a letter? We went just yesterday to…” I wouldn’t dare say what we did yesterday out loud. At least, not when there’s a guard in every corner. Alexanne holds up a piece of paper. Messy cursive letters cover the back of the page as well as the front. “What
- Writer
