The sense of silence in between us was solid and oppressive as he held my hand and led me along the wide halls of the top level of his mansion. His grip was delicate but imposing, the icy feeling of his hand burning through mine, driving insufficient thrills up my arm.
As we went, the stillness rolled out before us, and my heart felt like it was thundering against my chest. Every stride created a huge echo in the large empty hallway.
Every detail--the subtle scrape of the ground, the faint glow of the flame, the frigid wind brushing through one's elbows--kept my dread level high.
I felt an ominous churning contained within me, a conflict of fright and a positive outlook. What if he had no affection for me? What if he just saw what was wrong with me or the child, I had on me that wasn'
