I couldn't sleep because I was puzzled by the events that had transpired. The maid was the one who had poisoned her mistress, yet she had also rescued her. Why did she help the woman she had tried to kill in the first place?
The maid's actions seemed contradictory and confusing. If she had intended to poison her mistress, why would she then turn around and save her? There must have been some deeper motivation or complexity to the situation that was not immediately apparent
"I need some fresh air," I declared, seeking respite from the whirlwind of emotions. With determination, I rose from the bed and made my way towards the door.
Leaving the confines of my room, I wondered corridors of the hotel, searching for the garden. Step by step, I wandered, my feet carrying me deeper into the unknown.
To my surprise, I stumbled upon a breathtaking sight, a garden of exquisite beauty. I hypnose at its magnificence, realizing that I had never fully appreciated the magnificence of this hotel before. It was then that a realization struck me—this was not just any hotel; it belonged to my father and me, albeit under a different name. My father had imparted to me the knowledge that in times of trouble, this very hotel would serve as a sanctuary, a place of safety.
The significance of his words resonated within me, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of reverence for the hidden purpose this hotel held in our lives.
As I breathed in the refreshing air, my mind swirled with thoughts of how to approach my father regarding the complex situation that had unfolded.
The weight of the problems I found myself entangled in felt utterly overwhelming. I couldn't help but endlessly question how I had ended up in these circumstances.
My father's unwavering determination to seek justice for my mother's death - or perhaps something else entirely - was the central driving force, though he steadfastly refused to divulge any details to me. No matter how I pressed him, he remained stubbornly tight-lipped.
He was an old man, yet maintained a youthful appearance, as if some sort of magic kept the ravages of time at bay. Thin and stick-like, he bore a striking resemblance to me, just in an aged form.
I, on the other hand, had no memories of my own mother. There were no portraits or other keepsakes that might have preserved her image. She was a ghostly absence, a blank space in my life.
And then there were my father's cryptic references to "revenge" - but revenge for what, I could never discern. This lack of clarity only deepened the profound confusion and uncertainty I felt as I navigated this perplexing situation.
complexity of my situation feels like an unsurpassable ocean, overwhelming me to the point where I struggle to keep afloat. The multitude of problems I face weighs heavily on my shoulders, leaving me breathless and without respite.
I feel compelled to write a letter to my father, a heartfelt attempt to explain the complex situation that has unfolded before us.and when Elenore get better i will talk to her .
Suddenly, my gaze fell on a pair of blue eyes that fascinated me with their intensity. Their brilliance was like two elegant blue diamonds. As I continued to stare, I realized that those eyes belonged to her, the same fascinating figure standing before me. In her white nightgown and shawl, her ruby red hair was dancing in the wind. Her lips and cheeks decorated with cherry color further emphasized her beauty. Her skin is pure and pale, like a freshly fallen snowflake, with striking colors of red, blue and white adorning it. It was a feast. At that moment, she stood before me as the embodiment of elegance and charm, captivating my every thought with her mesmerizing blue eyes.
İndeed she is beautiful.
In the midst of the icy winds, a warm sensation enveloped me whenever I laid my eyes upon her.
"John," she uttered, her voice breaking through the haze that had momentarily clouded my mind." John " she repeated .
"Elenore," I said..
I watched in bewilderment as Eleanor, despite being poisoned, continued to walk away from me. Confusion gnawed at my mind, questioning her behavior and the enigma behind her actions. How could she be moving and seemingly unaffected by the deadly poison coursing through her veins?
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