The Ellington manor was quiet. For Anne, her luxurious bedroom had become a prison cell. She had locked herself away since the previous day's catastrophe and now news that her mother being a fugitive that was hunted down added to her despair. The reflection that stared back at her from the vanity mirror was a stranger—a pale, hollow-eyed girl whose entire life had been termed as a lie.
A soft, polite knock sounded on the door. Anne ignored it. She didn't want to see anyone. She didn't want to talk. She just wanted to be left alone in her misery. The knock came again, a little firmer this time, but still gentle. With a frustrated sigh, she stormed over to the door and yanked it open.
"What?" she snapped, her voice rough with unshed tears and a sleepless night.
It was the new head housekeeper, Mrs. Doris. She was holding a tray with a steaming bowl of soup and a glass of water. She didn't flinch at Anne's rude tone. Her expression was calm and neutral.
