Author's note: this chapter is from Seraphina's point of view
---
Before curling up in my bed, I checked three times that the door is locked and that all the windows are closed, including the French doors that lead to the balcony.
I was still shaking as I hugged myself.
I hate this feeling of being helpless, frozen from fear, like a lamb in front of a wolf… staring death in the eyes, and being unable to do anything about it. I wanted to run, but my body refused to move. I wanted to scream, but there was no air left in my lungs.
Am I really so useless that I can't stand up for myself even if my life is on the line?
Sure, Lazarus only hugged me and sniffed my neck, but I was confident that my life was in danger.
Just, what was that?
