𝙒𝙝𝙤 𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨?
Newly graduated accountant Cordelia Ashling has come to terms with the fact that her life is destined to be absolutely uneventful. That is until her parents gift her wi...
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I never sleep well in new places, no matter how tired I am. Evermore Manor is no exception. It doesn't matter that the mattress on the massive four-post bed is like laying on a cloud or that the sheets are light and cool. All the dark antique furniture in my room is bulky and casting intimidating shadows in the moonlight. It's like being inside Dracula's lair, with dead bodies and all.
The images from dinner are living rent-free in my head. I can't shake the image of Felix's body on the table. As curious as I am to know what's going on here, I'm equally grateful that Lorelai escorted me to my room. She was patient as I found my pajamas and completed my nightly routine. I was thankful for her constant small talk that kept me distracted until I got ready to crawl into bed.
The second I locked the door behind her, all my fears came to the surface. I checked and double-checked the lock and made sure that there was no way for someone to climb into my open window. Reason told me I was as safe as I could be in the room, but fear never seems to align with rational thought.
Several times throughout the night I've woken up, swearing I heard a random knock or the creaking of floorboards. Every time, I wrenched my eyes open and scanned the darkened room until the tricks my mind was playing on me were grating on my last nerve. I had forced myself not to look anymore, plopping a pillow over my head and squeezing my eyes closed.
But now, I can't keep them shut another second, even though there's nothing else I'd rather do.
You know that weird feeling when you just know someone is watching you? I don't know how we can all sense it, but I do know where I never wanted to have the pleasure—in a dark, locked room inside a creepy ass mansion where a man has just been murdered in cold blood.
But that's what's happening now.
I know someone is watching me. How, I don't have a damn clue, but they are. I have to get out of this room. Now.
I said earlier rational thought and fear seldom align. That's definitely true in this moment because before I can talk myself out of it, I am flinging the covers off my body, hopping out of the bed, snatching my silk robe off the hook by the door, and bolting out into the hallway.
What are the odds the person who may or may not have been in my room is the person that slit Felix Evermore's throat?
What are the odds the owner of the fucking house would be killed at the opening dinner?
Pretty fucking low, so I'm thinking the odds of that being the killer? Astronomically high.
Sprinting down the hall at full speed, my bare feet slapping against the wood floor, I swear I hear a door click shut and footsteps behind me.
"Fuck no, not today," I pant, thundering down the grand staircase with no regard for who I might wake up. Let me wake up this entire house; if that's a murderer behind me, someone needs to catch them, and it is not going to be me.
