The world is not as safe as it seems. That is the lesson Rosalie Gray learned after crossing the sea with her sister, Tessa. The world is also full of dark, mysterious secrets.
With her world turned upside down, Rosalie Gray feels as if she has now...
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The room seemed to be spinning around Rosalie, quick and unstoppable. Her vision was blurred by the tears that spilled freely from her eyes. There was once a time that she scarcely cried. Even as a child, she seldom shed a tear. Except when her parents had been killed in the carriage accident; she had cried for months then. But lately she had been under so much stress. Crying in the comforts of her own room was the only way she could cope; yet it offered her no comfort now. Will's words rang in her head on a constant loop. It was stupid of you to think that I ever wanted anything to do with you. The pain that washed over her was immeasurable; it felt like she had been stabbed. Like Will had stabbed her. Was this merely another one of his twisted games? Could he possibly have enjoyed allowing her to fall for him, only to rip her heart out? Surely, he must. No one else would be so cruel. Rosalie turned away from the four-poster bed to look at herself in the mirror. The image reflected there bore no resemblance to the girl she had once been. The girl staring back at her looked older. And broken. Her shoulders sagged, like she had been carrying a heavy burden all on her own for many years. The pale eyes that had once been so full of life appeared empty and were rimmed red from crying. This isn't who you are, a familiar voice startled her away from her reflection. Yet the voice inside of her head had not been her own. It was much deeper; a rich-sounding voice. She knew exactly who the disembodied voice belonged to. She would know that voice anywhere. Her father. She sometimes heard him in times when she needed comfort; for a while, she had thought she was going insane. How else could she possibly explain hearing the voice of her dead father? But it wasn't really him. It was merely the cruelty of her own mind; offering her something she could never truly have. Him.
One, two, three, four, Rosalie rattled off the numbers silently while counting the numbers of cracks in her ceiling. She needed something to keep herself occupied, otherwise she would likely lose her mind. It was too soon to leave the confines of her room; she wasn't quite prepared to run into Will. Her heart needed more time to recover. Of course, she knew how stupid that sounded; she barely knew this boy, yet she had let herself care for him. Had let herself see the good that wasn't there. Will didn't hurt her. Rosalie had hurt herself by being so incredibly naive. Maybe one day she would even thank him for breaking her heart, for bringing her back to reality. She would have lived in her own fantasy world forever if he had let her. thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven; surely, anyone else would find this boring. But for Rosalie, it was soothing. The cracks in the ceiling were real; they could not be made up. They were just the markers of age. Nothing more than the history of an old building. They were infinite. It was easy to appreciate something as simple as a crack in the plaster of the ceiling; it offered her a feeling of consistency. When she couldn't control the world around her, she could always fall back on her cracks in the ceiling. The sound of knocking on the wooden door caused Rosalie to bolt into an upright position on her bed. Her heart pounded against her chest. Had Will come back to stomp on the heart he had so carelessly tossed aside? The door creaked open agonizingly slow, but it did not reveal Will. Instead, it was Tessa standing in the doorway. "Tessie?" Rosalie climbed hurriedly out of bed. "What's wrong? Is it Nate?" "No, no!" Tessa smiled. "Nate is fine. Everyone was beginning to worry about you... you've been in your room for quite a while-" "I appreciate the concern, but there's nothing to worry about." Rosalie said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Tessa's eyes narrowed as she appraised her sister's face. Rosalie had always been a very convincing liar, but for once, her face had given her away. Her eyes were puffy and rimmed bright red from crying. "You don't always have to do this, Rose." Tessa sighed quietly as she closed the door behind her. "I'm your sister... you don't need to pretend like you're okay. What happened?" "It's nothing, honestly." Rosalie frowned, turning away from Tessa to look out the window. The sun was beginning to fade from view, illuminating the city in an orangish glow. Only the outlines of buildings could be made out; the people and carriages in the streets below had been cast into nothing but shadows. "I just had an... unpleasant conversation with Will. It's nothing to get worked up over." "What did he say to you?" Tessa demanded, squaring her shoulders. "It's nothing I wish to discuss, Tessa." "It clearly is," Tessa had moved to stand in front of her sister, blocking her view of the window. "You've been crying, Rose. That's not nothing." she reached out her hand and placed it on Rosalie's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Will you please tell me what happened? Otherwise, I'll have no choice but to go ask Will."
