Isabella Hawthorne
My heart raced as I trailed behind Alfred, the butler, through the grand halls of the manor. The corridors seemed to stretch endlessly, adorned with intricate tapestries and ornate chandeliers that cast a warm glow over the polished marble floors. The grandeur of the surroundings contrasted sharply with the tension in the air, heightened by the presence of security guards stationed strategically throughout the halls.
Capitol guards, armed with vaporizing rifles, patrolled the corridors with stern expressions, their vigilant gaze sweeping over every corner. The staff moved about with practiced efficiency, their footsteps echoing softly against the marble as they attended to their duties.
I couldn't help but notice the cameras positioned discreetly along the walls, thei
