Molly and I entered a broad room with a yawning fireplace, a fire glowing steadily in it. High-arching windows were shrouded in heavy curtains, and a thick carpet silenced our steps. Molly strode straight toward the four-poster bed and started straightening and smoothing. Her hands were quick, and she lifted the heavy mattress easily. In an attempt to help, I tried tucking in the ends of the blankets, but all I succeeded in doing was tugging and wrinkling it all so that we had to do it over.             “Never mind,” Molly said. “You’ll get better at it.”             “I won’t have to get better at it.”             Molly rolled her eyes. “Not this again.”             “Yes, this again,” I said, not caring if I was being brash or stubborn. “I want to go home.”             “And you remember where that is?” Molly leaned on a bedpost. “So last night wan’t enough, I see. You want to have another go at this argument.”             “No, I want it to stop being an argument and start being a conversation. One where you tell me the truth.”             “I am telling you the truth. Can’t you see that by now? You’re not leaving, I’m not leaving—”             “But—”             “You just try,” she said. “You try leaving and see how far you get.”             I knew it was useless to keep fighting with her, as much as I wished I could wring the facts out of her by doing so. I leaned against the vanity that stood opposite the bed. My stomach churned. I couldn’t remember my last meal. “When we’re done here, can we eat something?” I asked. “I’m starving.”             Molly gave me a sympathetic look. “You slept through breakfast.”             “And there’s no way—”
            “That Sergio will let you get to the food now? No. Not at all.” She cracked her knuckles. “I, on the other hand… Well, let’s just say I’ve had experience with this kind of thing. Be right back.” She darted out the door.             “Wait!” I called, but she was already gone.             I stood there for a minute, listening to the crackle of the fire and the steady thrum, thrum, thrum. With the vanity mirror at my back, I started to feel like someone was watching me. I whirled to face it, and for a second I was startled to find someone looking back at me from within the dark glass—my own reflection. I leaned in. Pale face, light freckles, reddish-brown hair that fell messily to just below my shoulders. How could I have forgotten my own features?             Footsteps sounded outside the door. I ran and opened it.             “I return victorious,” Molly held up her prize as she stepped inside. “No dropping crumbs,” she warned, and handed me a cloth napkin wrapped around two pieces of toast. “Couldn’t get to the jam,” she explained as I bit into the first piece.             “I don’t mind,” I said, swallowing. “Thanks.”             “It was nothing,” she said. “I’ve become rather skilled at doing things under Sergio’s nose.”             “Have you now?”             We both turned to see Sergio standing in the doorway.                  “Oh, come off it, Sergio,” Molly snapped. “Appearing like that, trying to scare us. It won’t work.”             He gave her a long look. She stared back at him. I could almost see a meaning pass between them, as if they were reading the other’s thoughts. Sergio’s expression was one of aristocratic disdain, while Molly simply scowled.             “Well, no matter if I scare you or not, I am still in charge. Ellen will need some other assignment. She can’t follow you around all day, doing nothing but listening to your bad influence.”             “Bad influence,” Molly laughed. “Really.”             Sergio ignored her. “Ellen.” He fixed his glowering gaze on me.             “You can’t force her,” Molly said.             “What is this other assignment?” I asked.             “Answering the door,” he replied coolly.             That took me by surprise. “Is there supposed to be someone coming?”               “Follow me and find out,” he said, and I caught the teasing in his voice. I didn’t want to give in to him as he dangled information over my head like that, thinking he had all the control. Honestly, I didn’t care much whether someone new was arriving or not. But I couldn’t stop myself from thinking that maybe this was my chance. All that time alone at the front door… I could try getting out of here, or form a plan at least.             I gave Molly a sideways glance. She shook her head.             But it was too late. My mind was made up.               Sergio closed the door behind us as we left the room. “I’m glad you made the responsible decision,” he said, leading me down the hall.             “No, you’re proud of yourself, thinking you manipulated me into it.” I was surprised at how easily I talked back to him, after the way he’d scared me the night before. Maybe it was his eyes; they still glowed, but not so dangerously without a flame reflecting, burning.             “Any girl who sneaks around at night trying to open locked doors—well, I’d say she can only blame herself if others play on her curiosity.”             “I wasn’t sneaking,” I said. “I was looking for Molly.”             “After she ran off without telling you where she was going or how to find your way around.”             “She thought I was going to sleep.”             He paused mid-step. “You don’t have to defend her,” he said, and kept walking. “She does that well enough herself.”             We went the rest of the way without speaking. He led me down into the front hall, where I had first stepped into the mansion. Just yesterday. One day here and I was ready to run.             “All you have to do,” Sergio explained, “is stand here and look like you’re someone, all right? Have a little authority.”             “In case I have to turn someone away?”             A smile flickered across his pale face, like a shadow passing overhead. “You won’t.” He turned and left me standing alone in the dim hall.  I waited what felt like a long time, so that I could be sure he was gone, busy in the kitchen or some other part of the house. Once I was finally sure the coast was clear, I smoothed the skirt of my borrowed dress and pulled the door open.             Wind rushed up at my face. I blinked hard and stared out at the white-blank world outside.             I stepped out onto the doorstep. Both feet rested on the thick slab of stone, both arms wrapped around me as protection against the damp cold. Fog curled around my body as if it wanted to wrap me up, shroud and smother me.             I shivered.             Which direction had I come from? Had I walked? It seemed impossible, but how else could I have ended up here, lost and alone? The fog was so thick, constantly moving, shifting, slow and languid. Even the ground was barely visible, just glimpses of broken, dead grass stalks.             If only I knew one thing… Just one memory. Any inkling of where I’d come from, so I could figure out how to get back.             Then I thought: what if there’s nothing to go back to?             That scared me more than anything.