LONDON, APRIL 30th, 1872
I have never sneaked out so quietly in my whole life. My footsteps are completely silent. In fact, I am blended with silence so well, that my heartbeat suddenly sounds loud in my own ears. I keep checking every corner, trying to make sure that I don’t get caught.
The moment I get to the front door, I realize what a mistake I have just made. The butler is standing beside it, guiding the entrance faithfully. I press myself against the wall just as he looks my way, freezing in panic. I am too close. I can’t be seen now.
I can hear a few footsteps into my direction, making me realize that I have to act now. I quietly slide towards the corner, moving slowly and in complete silence. The sound of the butler’s shoes hitting the floor aren’t helping me at all
