Chapter Eleven
What had happened to Aimee Bloom?
The morning brought with it a vibrant sun that set its beams against the window and splashed the pretty room with a golden glow. The room was lush, prettily decorated in springtime colors, with flowers and lace, a music box that played a Strauss waltz and delicate figurines.
Dressed in her starched black uniform with its crisp white apron, the maid came in to open the drapes and windows, letting the room flood with sunshine and fresh air.
“Time to rise, my dear,” she stated in a happy voice. “You’re probably starving.”
Aimee pulled up on her elbows in bed and stared at her surroundings, dazed.
“Where am I?”
“Yes, I’m sure you’re confused, dear, but the Master will explain.”
“Of course I’m confused. This is not my bed, this is not m
