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Penelope didn’t like that persistent feeling, that doubt arising from deep within her and overshadowing the relief of being in her room, in her home, in a completely familiar place.
What was wrong? What was happening? Why that feeling...?
The door to the room opened with a long whisper, and a slender, delicate figure appeared in the doorway, illuminated only by the flickering candlelight. Penelope tensed. She had never liked people entering her room without knocking, and really, only her mother and sisters took that liberty in her house.
But the silhouette didn’t belong to Philippa or Prudence or her mother.
Marina.
[ON HIATUS]
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Bookmark Notes:
LCR 4
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Bookmark Notes:
4