Chapter 27

(Emily's POV)

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It is snowing.

I sat on the window seat, tapping my finger on the cold glass while trying to get the one lone rabbit in the wasteland of snow's attention. He'd become my friend in the past four days. The four days I'd spent locked in this room. The day I arrived here in Italy.

A middle-aged woman, owner of a tight bun, permanent scowl, and, apparently, one medieval black dress, delivered my meals three times daily. "You can call me Alya. I am the housekeeper here. I do not like messes," was how she introduced herself.

Where's Leila?

I didn't respond, preoccupied with the perpetually locked door that finally lay open. I'd stepped toward it but froze when I saw a man standing in the hall, with an assault rifle held across his chest. I imagined if I ran, a spray of bullets would follow behind me. Which is more terrifying?

From what I saw from the fixed bay window, I was on the second story of a remote mansion. Large and built of stone, with nothing but trees