SWINDON, MARCH 30th, 1872
As I get back to the house, my mind as fragile as a piece of paper. If anyone met me in that state, they would know exactly what happened to me. I feel completely broken inside.
I don’t remember how I managed to get to my bedroom without anyone stopping me on the way, but if they did … I don’t even want to imagine what would happen if my aunt saw me like that. In some twisted way, I was lucky she wasn’t around. Perhaps Felicity was still bothering her with the table decorations.
I also don’t know how long it took me to pull myself together. I was leaning on my door, staring into nothingness for God knows how much time. If anyone looked at me, they would only see my pale face and red eyes. But no one could see beneath the surface, where everything, even the tini
