I woke up the next day with my head feeling like it had been packed with memories.
The memory of the music room...piano keys, the blood on August’s knuckles, the guttural scream that hadn't felt like mine, all clung to the edges of my mind like a bad dream.
But when I opened my eyes, the room was different.
The floor, which had been bare yesterday, was now covered in shopping bags. It looked like a boutique had exploded in my bedroom.
"Young Madam? Are you awake?"
A small, nervous-looking girl peeked her head through the door. She looked young, maybe twenty, with dark eyes.
"I’m awake," I said, sitting up.
"What is all this?"
The girl stepped inside, "Young Master August had these delivered this morning. He picked them all out himself, ma'am. He said you need a wardrobe bef
