Agnes POV

The soft red of the sun penetrated through the windows to sufficiently light up Eunice as she cried. The woman was so tortured that the feeling radiated off her like a living entity – oppressive and stifling. My heart squeezed in my chest painfully as if someone had taken a rope and was twisting it, then twisting some more.

We were alone in her room; there was nothing but the crackling from the fireplace and the regular sound of the clock on the wall. The room, in which she and I ...