Six hours passed and there still was no sign of Aunt Lucile. On her regular visits to town, it never took her this long to return home. Something was off. I couldn't help but think it was my fault. With each waking moment, anxiety flooded my nerves. The worst part was I couldn't leave the house. Aunt Lucile was already angry with me for talking to Brianna, I didn't want to make it any worse by leaving.
I went downstairs to pour myself some water. Before I could have placed the glass to my lips, a sound found my eardrums. I swiveled around to face not the servant but Miranna. Her eyes were dark. Her usual neatly groomed hair was messy. If there were words to describe her at that moment, it would be serial killer crazy.
She threw something at me. I managed to catch it. The garment was a coat. My coat.
