(Lana)
My heart raced as I tried to comprehend the significance of finding a book with my name on it. The curiosity and unease that engulfed me urged me to uncover the secrets within its pages.
However, just as I was still recovering from the shock I had just experienced and was about to continue reading, I heard footsteps approaching the door.
In an instant, I slammed the book shut and leapt to a location far away from the mahogany desk in the office, where I stood on my tiptoes to read whatever was written on the old-looking book. One of which just so happened to bear my name.
My Ruby waistband, which I always wore, was firmly held in my hand, and I did so in such a way that no one else could see it.
The lock on the door gave way and it swung open just as I had anticipated it would a few seconds after I re-established my position on the floor – trying my best to project an image of misery similar to how I felt when he threw me in.
