I waited for Wendy in her room. It was in the west wing along with the rest of the servants’ quarters.

It was a nice room. It was tan on the inside, had a twin bed and matching dresser and desk, and held all her knickknacks. Books, clothes, knitting tools and more were everywhere. It seemed so warm and cozy. I rubbed my hand against a sock she was knitting.

When I heard the door open, I looked up and nearly burst into tears.

Wendy walked in looking haggard and ...