Page 8 of Taken By Sin

The front door is large, and a small light illuminates the front steps, revealing that it's a deep black, akin to the night sky. We're in an alleyway, distant from the bright neon lights, yet when I glance to my left, I catch a glimpse of color at the far end of the street.

"Welcome home." Mr. Rollins gestures inside, and I slip in.

As I enter the living room, a strange sensation pricks at my neck while I gaze at the blazing fire. A chill travels down my spine; the AC is running, yet the large marble fireplace crackles with flames. It seems illogical to burn wood for warmth in August.

An oil painting of a familiar man, framed in gold, captures my attention as it hangs above thefireplace.

His striking appearance sends a shiver of anticipation through me.

Strong brows and a jawline that exudes resilience.

His ghostly gaze features one blue eye, one gray.

I'm here.

In his home.

SEVEN

Iwhip around, ready to question why I’m here and not at the boarding school. “Mr. Rollins,” I squeak into the quiet room; it’s vast, and I’m surprised when my voice doesn’t bounce back at me.

Only the sounds of the crackling fire stand between us. He raises his hand innocently. “Rollins,” he responds.

“Rollins,” I repeat. “The sisters told me I was going to a boarding school, but I don’t see anyone else here.” Maybe he owns it?

He nods. “Let me show you to your room.”

Why is he not answering me?“Am I safe?” I dare to ask.

Rollins inspects me, but his rosy cheeks and warm smile prevent any fear from surfacing. He laughs—a deep, joyful sound—before gesturing down the hall. "You’re in the safest building in the city. Trust us, Ms. Finley.”

“Magnolia,” I correct with a worried grin.

He gestures to the painting behind me. “I’ll let Mr. Donati explain to you why you’re here.”

I nod. “Well, where is he?”

“He will be here in the morning.”

“Do the sisters know?” I ask and Rollin’s hesitation makes me pause. “Am I free to leave?”

“Of course!” he replies, “but you should wait until tomorrow to hear from Mr. Donati yourself. It’s up to you.”

Curious questions whirl through my mind, and even after napping in the car, I still feel drained. If someone intended to harm me, I’d be finished by now. The day’s adrenaline isn’t helping me think clearly.

I bite my lip and twiddle my thumbs before finally sighing. “Could you show me to the bedroom? I’m incredibly exhausted.”

Rollins guides me up a winding staircase resembling black glass, leading to an endless hallway on the top floor. The walls are a deep metallic gray with texture, and I trace my fingers along the grooves. The trim is elegantly painted black.

Rollins halts at the last door on the left. "Rest, Magnolia. You’re home," he says before walking down the hall, leaving me by myself.

I inhale deeply before turning the knob and stepping into the room. This space contrasts sharply with everything I’ve encountered before. While the main hall was suffused with amber light and adorned with matte black accents, this room radiates brightness.

Cream-colored walls enclose me, and the shiny white floors beneath my feet seem to sparkle with flecks of glitter. Afour-poster bed draped in a fluffy white comforter sits against the wall, right beside an expansive patio.

There are two doors, one I assume is a closet, and the other possibly a bathroom? I've never had my own, but I'm too dizzy to do a self-tour of the space.

I desperately want to walk outside and stare at the view from the patio, but the bed is calling my name, and sleep is lulling me away.

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