Celine's POV
My heart pounded, each beat louder than the soft rustle I had just heard. The night was very cold, and I wondered what anyone who wasn't Mr Cassian was looking for in my room.
Who could it be? A serial killer sent by Mr Cassian to end me because I dared protest again? Or maybe I was just imagining things, because I hadn't eaten well today and in two days now.
I sat upright, eyes darting toward the corner, the faint shimmer of light from the window slicing across the floor.
Someone was in here.
It wasn't a dream this time; I could hear it. Slow, cautious steps. A sound too deliberate to be the house creaking.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. My trembling fingers reached for the lamp on the bedside table, and in one swift motion, I flicked it on. The soft yellow light spilt over the room, and the terrifying darkness was gone. Yet there wasn't any sign anyone was in the room.
