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Chapter Ten.
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𝓕rom a young age, Amelia knew she wanted to be free. She wanted to feel alive, feel needed. That part of her craved adventure like it could only survive on it. She would indulge, doing something risky or fun to feel something. The asylum was great for many things, but Amelia had never felt so lonely while being surrounded by people.
When she met Enola, her whole idea of life changed, and when she met Tewkesbury, it changed again. These past few weeks had held more personal growth for the orphan than she had ever received elsewhere. She had long said goodbye to the ways of her old life, while holding onto the pieces that left her the most joy. She was new. Her feelings were new. Wanted. Between the two people in front of her at that very moment, Amelia knew that whatever was to happen, she would not let them get hurt if she could do anything about it.
Fear was real, though. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her neck, her eyes wide with adrenaline as they crept further into the estate. Her guard was up, eyes scanning every entrance and exit in a paranoid manner.
Just as they felt comfortable about the empty foyer, the eerie silence was cut off by a rather loud snap... the shake of a rifle being loaded. Enola harshly grabbed the other two's wrists, yanking them down to the floor as a gunshot echoed throughout the room, shattering an unsuspecting vase on the table they hid behind. Amelia let out a cry, gripping onto Enola's side as they assessed the situation. Any nerves she had were smoothed out into full blown survival-mode.
"RUN!" Enola screamed, urging the two to follow her as another gunshot landed feet from where they were. Amelia scrambled up, her shoes sliding against the pristine marble floor. Tewkesbury grabbed her arm to steady her, rushing through a hall towards the door. They crashed into it, trying to open it to no avail. A bullet ricocheted off an armor stand, the noise so loud it was blaring in Amelia's ears. Tears were now freely rushing down her cheeks as she frantically looked around for an exit. She had no idea of the layout of the estate, and it was fueling an internal frenzy. Bullets were flying off everything around them, wood exploding into dust as they ran around the dark hallway.
A figure could be seen at the end of the hall, a gun in hand. Enola pulled them up behind a statue, the three of them desperately trying to contain their breathing. The bullets ceased for a moment, footsteps growing nearer. Amelia grabbed Tewkesbury's hand, digging her face into his shoulder as they awaited their fate. Amelia found herself thinking back upon her life, her childhood at the asylum. She thought about Madam Fields and Paisley. She thought about sitting in the yard for hours, reading any book the matriarch had borrowed for her, or climbing trees with Enola at their estate. Her thoughts even wandered to the boy next to her, to their walk in London.
