Chapter 2: The Belle of the BallDespite how many times I told myself that I wasn’t going to that party; despite how many times that I reassured myself that I wasn’t going to let my seventeen-year-old cousin bully me into being social; despite how many times I promised myself that I would never have to speak to Velma Van Ross again; I arrived at the stone footsteps of the mansion at five o’clock and Velma answered the door.
I stumbled backward, unprepared to see her; usually, she made her maid open the door.
“Hello, Autumn,” She smiled slightly, revealing the cracks in her stone cold face, “You look… interesting.”
I swallowed at her remark, “Nice to see you too, Velma.”
“Well come in,” She stepped to the side, “your dress is in Reagan’s room.”
I stepped into the grand entrance that gav
