to visit more o

own, then leaned forward to kiss my gloved hand. The lamplight from the entr

Your voice is rather loud for someone suppose

over probably heard that declaration.

ld feel Rose shi

their breath fogging in the cool evening air. The whe

looking out

at

Mar

crying o

n spill of light from the mansion's windows, making her look like something from a painting. The Foundlin

would have

disappeared a

ept w

he's

waiting for what

ably expecting me to have already swept back insid

e found me

flin

e came out small,

girl an os

ire for the

us like she was watching a tennis matc

tened my voice. "

, deeper than usual. "Very well. Goodnight, L

ion wasn't l

tsteps faded, the heavy door clos

ed to

low

yes went wi

ed. Shoulders hunched. Head bowed. Hands clasped

I

n bloomed across my visi

RE YOU

side entrance, my skirts s

I

POINT RIGHT NOW. YOU DON'

my breath. "You think I enjoy bei

eared, hovering at t

.

now? You're an omniscient narrati

ed it away like

e from behind me, careful. Pr

m the madwoman ta

de me. Unless you plan to skulk behind

-ok

And of course-of course-she smelled like vanilla and fresh linen. Li

rotagonis

d, keeping my tone conversat

eyes had gone wide again, but this time there was so

d perfectly, like a violin string played by a master. "I'll be will

sister anymore? What kind of family would we be i

er, confusion flickering ac

I

NING: OUT

LD NEVER WILLINGLY CA

t have character growt

ow me where you sleep, you peasant." I added a sneer for good measure, though

much? That

glow dimmed, app

h of relief, there and gone in an instant. Like she w

at's de

the spotlight followed Maryann, and my job was to stride out during my scenes, deliver my villainous lin

ts-those were mine. Time I could use however

eater with higher stakes

o spend time wi

rough my thoughts, swe

y when you called me y

. That Beatrice's cruelty was supposed to be confined

onding and more like a vei

d not

r pink hair like a confectionery nightma

t us walking together, and nearly dropped her basket

whispered to another maid

atrice be

he urge to r

s. These were narrower, dimmer, the wallpaper plain instead of printed

ive the long-lost daughter proper accommodations w

enormous that the "servants' wing" wa

in wooden door. Nothing like the carved ma

shed i

thout waiting

m was..

suffering heroine" trope that I'd half-anticipated finding Maryann sleeping on a bed of nail

all wardrobe, a writing desk positioned near the window, a

comfortable.

p with a painted shade. Curtains in pale blue cotton. Books

agged on something a

showed a younger Maryann-maybe nine or ten-with her arm slung around a grinning boy's shoulders. He had dark hair, a gap-too

the frame,

hen I still lived in the slums, a family was kind enough to take me in bef

h

ough

l timeline, he and Maryann would reunite around chapter five hundred-which, given that the

. Her expression was perfectly melancholic. Wistf

in this boy isn'

a remarkable tendency to show up later as brooding l

o I get he

w-she knew. She knew this world

me? From twenty twenty six?

wn carefully and m

flin

be two. Like she'd remembered she was supposed

you sneak

t with something universal. Something any

I liked to call "Spo

y Pot

o the silence like st

ent absolu