Her first night in the house, Edwin gave her a tour of the Tudor, starting at the burgundy front door and ending on the second floor. Her bedroom was on the left side of the hall and his was on the right. There was an attic above them, but it was locked with actual chains. She wasn’t allowed inside.

Belle didn’t mind. Who cared about a stuffy old attic when you had a canopy bed and three gigantic windows? She could look out over the street, the backyard, and the side of the house, where a little flower garden had been planted. After the grand tour, and an elaborate dinner of roast duck and potatoes, Belle wanted nothing more than to curl up in one of those windowsills and look out at her kingdom. But the darker the house grew, the more agitated Edwin became. Long shadows draped across the dining room, making him jumpy. When a crow flew in through the window, Edwin knocked over his wineglass, spilling it on the white tablecloth.

Belle frowned, hurrying to mop it up. “I know how to clean,” she said proudly.

A soft, low chuckle. “I’m sure you do. I’m sure they taught you how to cook, and do laundry, and all sorts of things you’re too young to worry about.” Edwin smiled, pushing back from the table. “But you don’t have to take care of me, Belle. I’m the grown-up, and I’m going to take care of you.”

He took her hand, leading her toward the stairs. They hadn’t even cleared the table yet! Belle thought that was odd. At eleven years old, she knew there was a certain order to things, and clearing the table happened immediately after dinner. Then, scrubbing the pots and pans. Wiping the countertops. By the time she got to bed most nights, it was after ten, but that night the sun had just slipped below the horizon when Edwin brought her up to her room.

“The world is filled with monsters,” he said, retrieving a toolbox from under her bed. Belle perched on the purple comforter. “Some will force you to look after them, even though you’re just a little girl. Some will sneak into your bedroom at night and snatch you out from under me. That’s why we have to take precautions.”

Belle flinched as Edwin pulled a hammer from the toolbox. “What are you going to do?” she asked, heart tolling like a bell in a tower. She pulled the comforter up around her like a shield.

“What I have to do.” Edwin strolled to the eastern window. The one that looked out into the yard. “I couldn’t do it before, because your social worker would’ve been angry. She wouldn’t have let me take you.” He pulled out a single nail, pressing it into the wood of the window frame. Belle jumped at the first swing of the hammer.