- SERAPHINE
The morning of the gala didn't feel like a celebration. It felt like the morning of an execution.
Lorraine shook me awake at dawn, her hands cold and efficient as she pulled the duvet back.
The room was freezing—they’d turned the heat down, or maybe I was just losing the ability to feel warmth.
“Mr. and Mrs. Griffiths are waiting for you in the dining room,” she said. She didn't look at my face like she used to. “Eat something. You’ll need your strength for tonight.”
“Mrs. Griffiths,” I repeated in a whisper, the name tasting like ash.
Lorraine finally looked up, her eyes darting to the security camera in the corner of the ceiling. “Eat your breakfast,” she whispered. "I'm only going to say this once again. Don't make me regret my patience."
The house was a hive of acti
