Things change around the 11-year-old orphans from Grace Field as they approach their twelfth year of life.
✦ Will these four eldest children, who have placed so much faith in their sole guardian, Isabella, be able to betray that trust after learnin...
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Chapter Twelve | Ally
[Narrator]
The clock struck six-thirty-seven in the evening, casting a soft, warm glow across the room as Ninelie slowly stirred awake from her two-hour nap. Her eyes blinked open to find Emma, her vibrant orange hair standing out in the dimly lit space, whispering urgently by her side.
"Ninelie, you have to come with us right now." Emma urged, her voice barely above a hushed tone.
Still feeling a bit groggy, Ninelie struggled to grasp the situation unfolding before her. "Wait, why? What's happening?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes to clear her vision.
Emma's response was cryptic yet full of purpose. "I have something to report."
"...What?"
Suddenly, two lamps illuminated the room, held by Gilda and Norman, respectively. The sudden brightness startled Ninelie, making it hard for her to fully comprehend the urgency behind Emma's wake-up call.
Squinting against the light, Ninelie squirmed, trying to get her bearings. She scanned the room and realized that in addition to Emma, Norman, Gilda, and Ray were present—surprisingly, even Don, who had barely spoken to her until now.
"What are you guys doing here?" She opened her eyes and looked at them. In the room, there was Ray, Emma, Norman, Gilda, and Don.
Until now, Don never talked to her. Right now, he's still not making eye contact with the red-eyed girl since he felt a little awkward.
"Report," Emma declared, her tone carrying a sense of gravity.
Perplexed, Ninelie raised an eyebrow, demanding more information. "Report what, exactly?"
Emma grabbed a notebook and a pen, taking a position in front of Ninelie's bed. "There's something suspicious going on, and we need to share what we've discovered," she began.
Ninelie shifted in her bed, adjusting her posture to sit cross-legged, eager to hear what Emma had to say. "Go on," she encouraged.
"Gilda and I have been observing Mama for a few days, and she disappears before 8 p.m. every night," Emma conntinued.
"She disappears?" asked Norman.
Emma nodded solemnly. "Yes, she's nowhere to be found."
The orange-haired girl then placed her notebook on the bed, flipping to another page. She had a diagram drawn, depicting Isabella's study and an adjacent wall that seemed suspicious.
