Rain pitter-patters on the roof of the cardboard box that I call home. Suddenly, I see a pair of polished feet pivot towards me. The person squats - Ceil Phantomhive was his name, which I didn't know at the time.
"You're too pretty to be out in this chilly rain," he says and gestures behind his umbrella. He smiles innocently, and whispers," Come along, young lady. I'll help you to live."
And he did. In more ways than one, he helped me to survive.
