A Secret Princess by Margaret Stohl & Melissa de la Cruz

Author:Margaret Stohl & Melissa de la Cruz [Stohl, Margaret & de la Cruz, Melissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2022-06-28T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Their journey certainly took more than five minutes. They were walking for almost an hour before Sara and Cedric stumbled gasping upon the threshold of a clean, orderly townhome in the midst of an industrial district. Such a respectable building of red brick and green shutters seemed starkly out of place among the factories and warehouses. Outside of the building—squeaking as it waved in the passing storm’s dwindling wind—was an embossed plaque displaying the names HODGSON & BURNETT.

“Is this the place?” Sara asked.

Cedric was indeed leaning against Sara by this point. His arm was hooked securely over her shoulders and his body slumped heavily toward the ground. His breathing came in long and labored, and Sara could feel his strength ebbing. It had been many months since Cedric had succumbed to the tremors—not since the night on the frozen lake—but Sara suspected that so much strain over such a short amount of time would set him back to bed-bound if this continued. She didn’t care what revelation lay within this mystery location; she was just grateful for a place to rest and ask for help.

Cedric lifted his head only marginally, enough to glance up at the plaque through pale lashes.

Sounding far more anxious than optimistic, Cedric said, “This is it.”

Sara looked to the sky and saw that the sun had begun its descent along the western horizon. Was it the end of the day already? Had so much changed in such a short time? Sara felt a new and staggering compulsion to sit down and rest on the cool cobbles of the Sheffield streets until the day wound back and this whole misadventure could begin anew, the proper way, the right way. They should be settling into the cabin of a ferry bound for the French coast right now, if they’d just boarded a different train. Cedric would be complaining about the standard of the accommodations instead of fighting to stay conscious through numbing pain. She would be preparing to pass a night in a real bed, on a real mattress, and would kneel to pray on a soft rug instead of splintered wood. Mary would be telling the story of their great escape to a dining hall of eager listeners from all over the world instead of . . . well, instead of wherever she was now. Doing whatever it was they were no doubt forcing her to do. Sara shook her head. She couldn’t think about it. Not until Mary was safe and their odd little family was whole again.

Sara leaned against the front door of the establishment, and it swung inward. Instantly, the change of temperature overwhelmed her. While outside there was a slight chill, sharp wind, and wet air, this interior was as dry and cloistered as an oven. The air was smoldering and close, causing her to inhale and exhale rapidly, struggling to catch her breath. It was a place of claustrophobic and constricting discomfort. The sole resident—sitting alone at a large desk in the very center of the cramped room—only heightened the bizarre feel of the place.

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