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Through the cemetery...

London. 1850.

The grandfather clock on the first floor ticked loudly as Pamela Ravenscroft glided down the main hallway of the mansion’s second story. She was good at being quiet, at disappearing into corners or behind curtains when it suited her. Lately, however, she hardly needed to tiptoe around her parents, for they barely remembered she was there. She didn’t mind. It made stealing away in the middle of the night much easier.

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