The morning sun streamed through the massive windows, making the mansion—Sylvia’s new prison—feel deceptively inviting.
She adjusted the silk robe she’d found hanging in the walk-in closet, the soft fabric cool against her skin. Staring at herself on the long ornate mirror, she indeed had the look of a wife, of someone who ought to behave the part.
She, sighed, trying not to laugh at her situation. Walking to the edge of her bed, Sylvia debated her next move. She had refused to leave her room for dinner the night before, but she couldn’t stay cooped up in it forever.
If she was going to survive—and escape—she needed to understand her surroundings and the people in them.
Taking a deep breath, Sylvia opened the door and stepped into the long hallway.
The mansion was as sprawling insid
