Elena
I freeze. The voice comes from the front of the house. Sharp. Commanding. Familiar.
Heels click on the wooden floor. Each step echoes like a small hammer.
A tall woman appears in the doorway. Black hair pulled into a tight bun so severe it pulls at her temples. Dark eyes, almost black, set deep in a pale face. Lips painted red, the color of fresh blood. She wears a black dress with a white collar, like a uniform. Her hands are clasped in front of her.
Miss Ivy.
The maid from the dungeon. The one who called me a filthy wolf when Ray first locked me in the cell. The one who spat on the floor in front of me.
No. Not her. Anyone but her.
"Well, well," she says, looking me up and down. Her dark eyes crawl over my body like insects. "The little thief cleans up nicely."
I clutch Eut
