- SERAPHINE
Two weeks.
That’s how long it took for the girl I used to be to rot away. I wasn’t a person anymore; I was a secret tucked behind a heavy oak door.
I spent my days tracing the patterns in the wallpaper until they turned into monsters in the dark. I felt like I had already rotted inside and died slowly in that train wreck, and this house was just a very expensive, very quiet tomb where my body was waiting to catch up with my soul.
Aiden and Marielle, the "Seraphine"—the woman who had stolen my face—would visit me in shifts. They’d stand by the bed, looking down at me with that practiced, pitying look. Then, they’d vanish. For days at a time, the house would go silent, save for the rhythmic footsteps of Lorraine’s sensible shoes in the hallway.
“They’re on a business trip,”
