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Charles backs away from me, giving me space to circle around and hurry back out into the cold air of the estate.

Stanley eyes me knowingly, turns on his heel, and heads back toward the kitchen.

Tears I’ve been fighting for much longer than tonight fall down my cheeks as I rush up the stairs, hearing Josephine’s balmy spiels echo through the house.

Rushing outside, I’m barraged with brittle air. Its fingers trawl over my skin, sending a shiver through me.

Snow’s falling, and I merely sniffle at the sight.

It’s my favorite time of year, but this year, it feels bleak, sullied by what my life’s become since moving into the estate.

Yet, I can’t stop.

It’s as if something larger than myself and my control is at play. It’s as if fate has taken the wheel and is steering me straight over the cliffs fringing this haunted, horrible place.

My tears freeze on my cheeks, drying as I make my way down the steps. I close my eyes, pinwheeling through the snow and breathing in the cold, unspoiled air.

When I flutter my lashes open, I catch a shadow in the upstairs window.

It’s him.

He’s watching me.

He’s always watching.

My eyes close again, and I keep dancing for him, even when the snow falls harder, even when it feels as though my bare feet will become frostbitten.

I’ll never stop dancing for him, even if I’m doing so to appease my guilty soul.

One day, I might convince him that I’m worthy of his forgiveness.

20

QUICK ESCAPE

SERAPHINE

Snow sticks to the ground in frozen sheets as I heft the garbage bag from my office toward the dumpster behind the house. The storm has broken, but the weatherman predicts tonight will be particularly harsh, so I might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

The sun shines brightly through the craggy trees surrounding the house, suggesting an entirely different vibe than the one inside.

After the other day, in my office, I don’t know what’s going on or which way is up. The men I can see look at me with such intensity; I don’t understand it.

They want me.

I want them.

But I’m scared.

I don’t know if that fear is from living in this estate for weeks on end, being holed up in the middle of the harshest winter this area’s seen in years, or because I haven’t been with anyone in so long.

The last guy I was with was cruel, but on the other hand, I was using him to get off. So, I was, too.

The way the Valdrich men look at me promises more than I’ve ever had before. More than I think I can handle.

“I could’ve done that,” a voice says as I’m hoisting the heavy bag of shredded paper over the lip of the dumpster, startling me.

I squeak, and the bag drops to the ground instead of where it was supposed to go.