Growing up together, Richard had a quirky way of waking me up whenever I clung to my bed sheets too dearly. He'd sneak up to my bedside and tickle my nose with a feather. It got me up quicker than any alarm clock ever could. So, naturally, my mind often flickered to thoughts of Richard.

But my attempts to avoid these memories only seemed to spur on a more passionate invasion of my personal space.

Cold yet soft lips pressed against mine, sending a numbing sensation through my body. I pounded on the guy's chest, exclaiming, "Richard, what the hell are you doing?" "Richard, you jerk!"

The more loudly I protested, the more forceful he became.

"Richard, how could you do this to me? It hurts." Tears welled up in my eyes as a terrifying realization hit me. Then, I realized that Richard was in prison because of Claude at this very moment.

Boom! It was like a splash of cold water on my face. "Turn on the lights! Who are you?"

Panic set in. Who had entered my room and crossed those intimate boundaries?

"Claire, is Richard all you ever think about?"

Suddenly, all went quiet, and I was overwhelmed by a sense of emptiness.

Out of the silence, a deep voice I knew all too well and that chilled me to the bone, pierced the air. It was Claude!

awake

bedside lamp

exposed as I was, hands

up, hugging my knees, stuttering, "Claude, I didn't mean to... I just... I had some warm milk. I felt strange and ended up here..." But he cut me

room barefoot, not

room that I had touched, the bedding, mattress, even the furniture, replacing them all. His disdain for me was more

stopped me, relaying Claude's orders that I was

was there to help me. I asked

arrived under

Hollow's famous clam

why

when the Hart family provided

tone

snatched the chowder and the concealed pill. As I attempted to retrieve it, the food container tore, spilling its contents and revealing the pill. Caught, a servant triumphantly

swift kick, silencing

demanded,

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