What was she to me now? What was I to her? Lottie and I weren’t friends, we hadn’t ever been acquaintances. First, she was the woman whose happily ever after I stole. Then, the love of my life’s fiancée. Now my secret husband’s wife. My once sister-in-law.
Fate seemed determined to make us enemies, but I’d never once hated her. Not really.
Were we ju
st two hearts destined to collide?
So I did the thing I’d learned too well from Grayson. I stick my heart on my sleeve and bleed.
“Lottie, do you need someone?”
She blinked, and I saw it for a moment—fear, heartache, and self-loathing.
Then she hardened her face. “From you?” Anger washed her features. “Do you have any idea what you did?” She shook her head ruefully. “Maybe, or maybe not, because this is the real you, isn’t it? You act nice, but you destroy everyone. Do you have any idea what’s happened to him because of you? If you loved him, you would have left with him. You wouldn’t have left him.”
My mouth dried. “What happened?”
“The next morning, after Grayson didn’t run away with you…” Lottie opened her mouth, then closed it.
“What?” I gripped her arm. “What happened while I was away?”
Dread coiled in my gut the longer she went without speaking.
Slowly, her icy eyes met mine. “He’s a prisoner in this house because of you.”
Grayson Crowne, a prisoner in his own home?
I didn’t believe it.
I couldn’t.
“You’re lying.”
She tore her arm out of my grip. “I think that’s your specialty, Story.”
She spun on her heel, the door slamming shut behind her.
I stared at the closed door, her words spiraling on repeat in my head.
They poked at all the worries that had been burrowing holes in my heart.
Was this the real me?
Had I made a huge mistake?
And what the fuck happened to Grayson? Prisoner.
The door opened again, and I lifted my head, assuming it was Lottie. Instead, the servant I recognized from the day I’d first had tea as West’s wife stood before me. She had blonde hair and brown eyes, and had been kind enough that day.
Still, wariness filled my veins—were the servants planning some kind of revenge? I was exhausted at the thought. Too many monsters lived in Crowne Hall.
She thrust her hand out, revealing a silky piece of paper. “Read it then hold it over the candle until it’s nothing but ash. You are not safe.”
I took the paper, confusion seeping through me. “What—” I looked up and she was already leaving. “Wait.” I gripped her arm. “What’s going on? Why are you giving this to me?” Why are you helping me?
She looked over her shoulder. “You have friends here, Cinderella.”
She quickly left, leaving me with a letter with fire-marked edges, written in green ink.