Thomas took a deep breath and stepped off the bus. A gas station stood to his left, loud and bustling, while to his right loomed a solid chunk of the Rale fortune. A long driveway led up to a fountain, then to the mansion itself. Gleaming brick, white trim, heavy oaken doors and gold accents hinted at the immense fortune behind the building. 377Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRZBt0CY9a3
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Shouldering his backpack, he ran across the road, dodging cars and motorcycles. Coming to a stop in front of the massive double doors, he knocked and collapsed, not used to the exercise. 377Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH1yIBZA5BL
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A black-clad butler opened the door and peered out. “Who is it?” he asked, a light Canadian accent pleasantly emphasizing his words.
”Thomas Wilson. I’m here to see Charisma,” he responded, his own accent stronger and harsher. 377Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHAJ5tUsjZT
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The old butler nodded, turned, and disappeared into the mansion. A few minutes later, a young girl, perhaps twelve or thirteen, flounced into view. 377Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡucVZuVUU1h
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“Thomas!” the girl squealed. “How good of you to come! It’s been so long, my friend. But do come in, it’s impolite of me to leave you out in the cold in this manner.” She swept aside and ushered him in. Once he was inside, the butler closed the door with an ominous thud. “Oh, Thomas,” Charisma sighed, “I remember when you left us in France. Six years ago, when I was barely seven years old, and you were merely nine. Your poor father had just passed. I’m so sorry that we must reunite ‘neathe these horrific circumstances.”377Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZiFdbBRfcY
“I’m just glad to see you again!” Thomas exclaimed, pulling Charisma into a large hug.
She gasped and hugged him back. “We used to be so close, you and I. Now you are fifteen and I’m barely a teenager. It’s a much larger gap, Thomas.”
“When did that bother us before?”
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