The stormy wind howling through the corners of the Strout mansion accompanied Celine’s steps, as she hurried through the drafty corridors and climbed the squeaky staircases to reach the tower room. The news she carried weighed heavily on her heart, and she dreaded the task of delivering it.

  As she approached Amelie’s secluded chamber, she hesitated for a moment, her hand suspended above the worn wooden door. Drawing a deep breath, she knocked on the door twice slowly, followed by three quick raps – a secret code between her and Amelie, signaling urgency.

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  “Come in, Celine,” came Amelie's voice from within.

  Celine pushed open the door and entered the room. Amelie was standing by the window looking down at the forested landscape, whose carpets of autumn foliage were getting ripped off by the violent winds. Her delicate frame silhouetting against the cloud-shrouded light appeared almost ethereal. Yet, a subtle tension of her shoulders and the restless drumming of her fingers against the windowsill belied the alluring facade.

  “Amelie,” Celine began hesitantly, “I have something to tell you… It’s about Amir.”

  (The rest of the chapter has been removed to prevent further copyright infringements.)