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arcus trudged up the grand red-carpeted stairs that flared before us. I stayed near, my strides in line with his, while Elene followed, keeping her distance from the two of us. He then turned down a hall that appeared to never end, occupied with a variety of doors and no windows.

The man came to an unforeseen stop, and with a trivial pause, he rested his ear against the door, listening for something. All I was able to hear was a stifling silence that idled in the hall as Elene, and I watched in confusion.

I pondered what could be on the other side. Although I was certain it was the one known as Amelia. After quite a period of inertia, Marcus opened the door, its hinges screeching. The noise permeated the room, echoing, and chills passed down my spine as we embarked into the drafty chamber, listening to the groan of the floorboards beneath our feet.

I stretched my neck to see a body lying in the room's midst. From a distance, it appeared as if someone was lying on the bed. Driven by curiosity, I stepped forward and seized a glimpse of a woman with flaxen hair.

There was something more than unusual about her. She seemed young—perhaps a few years younger than Elene, in her twenties. Thin hair glistened beneath the light falling through the window and effected a shine on her pale skin that embodied the appalling moonlight. The young woman looked distressed, as if she was in a great deal of pain.

Her eyelids twitched and were a hue of lilac, pulled tightly over her eyes, exposing sleepy downward lashes. The woman's face appeared like death itself. Harsh lines followed her bone structure, and she seemed to have lost some teeth. For when she inhaled, her top teeth were absent, causing her breath to whistle.

Marcus was first to move toward her, and in doing so, he grabbed her hand and spoke. "This is our—" he paused for a moment in thought, a lump swelling in his throat. I watched with intent as he gulped it down. Marcus stared at the woman's muted-colored hand before continuing, "Our sister, Amelia."

"Do you know what is wrong with her?" I inquired, driven by curiosity.

I moved next to Marcus, leaning over to investigate the woman underneath the white sheet, keeping my hands by my side. My gaze wandered, carefully examining the details of the sickly woman. Despite not being a physician, I needed to act as if I were one so that I played Elene's game promptly.

The first thing I noticed other than her face was her attire. The winter-colored nightgown that grew long with lace caressed the top of her chest. Ruffles collected at the bottom of her sleeves, though the thing that really caught my eye was straggled across her collar. Tinted in rays of gold, in the shape of a heart, was a locket that seemed to drive something deep inside of me.

"We are not sure exactly what has happened to her. It seemed as if one moment she was ambling about smiling and lively as ever, then seconds later, she fell devastatingly ill," Elene said from the other side of Marcus.

Yet, I could hardly hear her. My mind was blank—the only thing I was able to focus on was the woman. There was something unusual afoot, something that caused me to stir.

The locket gleamed blue, mesmerizing me as if it were screaming my name. I reached toward it, inching forward, driven to touch the gold, my body moved of its own accord. I was just a touch away when my arm was clenched by an unforgiving hand.

I turned to meet Marcus's seething gaze, noting the warning written in his eyes. He gritted his teeth, anger resting on his face as he dropped Amelia's hand. I watched as it fell softly to the bed, taking its place like it belonged there all along.

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