Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
The sight of it made me smile. Up until moving to Chicago, I’d worn it every day. Climbing up on the bed, I stared at it for a long time. It was on the older side and tarnished. The chain was so brittle that I worried every day it would break, but still, the little locket was so dear to me.
I worked the catch loose—it had gotten harder to open over the years. Inside, the picture of a dark-haired girl looked up at me.
Isabella.
I missed her so much. She’d been such a cheerful, happy little girl, at least until she got sick. A tear fell as I looked at her picture. Only now did I realize that subconsciously, I’d felt like something was missing ever since I arrived here. But now it wasn’t missing any longer.
Her smile, her hair, her eyes ... they were similar to mine, but on her the result was prettier. She’d always been smiling, as she was in the photo. And she’d made my parents smile, too. Their whole personalities had changed when they were with her. They’d been lighter. Kinder. Happier.
If I were like Isabella, maybe Massimo would like me better. Maybe he’d feel moved to let me out of the house more. Or even take me somewhere himself.
I wished so badly she were here. But no, not here in this house. The last thing I’d ever want for her was an arranged marriage, but as the second-born, she probably would’ve been safe from that kind of thing. I wondered what she’d think of my situation if she’d lived long enough to know about it.
Things felt right after I fastened the locket around my neck. It gave me a boost of energy, and I sorted through the next case quicker than the others. I only stopped when I had a huge pile of towels and bedding that I needed to find a place for.
Gathering it up, I shoved it all into a pillowcase for easier carrying and then laughed as I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror over Massimo’s dresser. With it slung it over my shoulder, I looked like a little girl running away from home.
Except I’d tried that, however inadvertently, and it hadn’t worked out very well.
But I didn’t want to think about that right now. Instead, I thought of the way Stefano had kissed me when he’d taken me into that room before. I almost veered off and headed for his office, but I figured I’d better find a place to stash the stuff I carried and then I’d go hang out with him.
I didn’t find any likely spots on the second floor, though. Finally, I headed upstairs and went to the little hideaway, surveying the bedding I already had there. Honestly, I’d created a comfortable little napping spot for myself, so there really wasn’t much point in piling more blankets on top. Plus, I didn’t want the little space to feel too cramped.
My gaze fell on the back wall, which was the underside of a staircase. It led up to the attic—a place I’d never been to.
But no one had told me I couldn’t go up there.
When I approached the door in the hallway, I expected it to be locked, but the handle turned with a bit of a creak. I found the light switch on the wall and climbed the narrow stairs, trying not to make too much noise. I couldn’t imagine what a servant might say if they found me in here.
The attic itself was huge, obviously running the length of the house, but only the part nearest me was filled. There was old furniture, crates, boxes, and a few rolled-up rugs. It wasn’t messy, though. Nothing in the house was. Jana had a fleet of housekeepers under her, and she ran a tight ship. But everything looked old. High-quality and expensive when new, but old.
Still, it was nice there was so much room up here. Maybe I could ask Massimo if I could store my empty trunks up here. Although maybe it would be smarter to just get rid of them—after all, I was here for good. It wasn’t like I’d need them to pack up and move out again.
I refolded some towels and blankets and stacked them on an old shelving unit by a window. One shelf was full of dusty books, so there was plenty of room.
Next to the shelving unit was a wooden crate open at the top. A picture frame was balanced on top of a bunch of other stuff.
Curious, I pulled it out and dusted it off with my sleeve. When I saw the boyish face on the dark-haired young man, I thought it was Stefano. But upon closer inspection, it was Massimo, wearing a basketball uniform as he smiled up at the camera.