Alisa
Missus Quinn leads me through the expansive mansion, to the very back of the building where the kitchens are. By the time we get there, I'm about ready to collapse. The place is huge, with a maze of passages and hallways. A person could get lost in the mansion for days, if not weeks. Someone could die here, and no one would ever find them.
A young woman with short black hair and pretty turquoise eyes is at the stove, boiling the world’s biggest pot of milk. “Hiya,” she chirps as we enter. “I’m Brooke.”
“Alisa,” I say and sag down on one of the benches.
Missus Quinn starts to flit around the kitchen like a nervous bird, gathering cutlery and plates.
“I hear you made a run for it. Had everyone in a panic," Brooke says, and throws something in the pot.
I smile at the pretty Omega
