//CLARA//
I did not remember climbing the stairs.
One moment I was pressed against the corridor wall, Aunt Cornelia's words still ringing in my ears—She will be joining us for dinner tomorrow evening—and the next I was in my room, my back against the door, my breath coming in ragged gasps that did not seem to belong to me.
Adelaide Chase.
The name echoed in my skull like an alarm I could not stop ringing.
I crossed to the wardrobe before I could think better of it, my hands already reaching for the hidden compartment behind my winter silks. My fingers closed around the worn leather. I sank onto the edge of the bed and flipped through pages.
But as I scanned Eleanor's handwriting, my hands began to shake.
