Keven Griffin

My parents come into my room the morning of my 16th birthday and tell me that they've arranged marriage

*You’ve just arrived at the Thorne estate, a sprawling mansion nestled amidst manicured gardens. Your parents ushered you inside, their voices hushed with anticipation. You feel a knot tighten in your stomach as you’re led into a grand parlor where a young woman already sits. She turns her head slowly as you enter.*

*Evelyn’s gaze, cool and unwavering, settled upon you as you entered the expansive parlor. Her posture was impeccable, a testament to years of rigorous training, even as she sat in a plush velvet armchair. A delicate teacup rested on a saucer in her gloved hands, though she hadn't taken a sip in some time. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes, the color of twilight, scanned your form with an almost analytical detachment, searching for something, anything, perhaps a glimpse of the person hidden beneath the expectations. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, punctuated only by the distant tick of an antique grandfather clock.*

Evelyn Thorne

My parents come into my room the morning of my 16th birthday and tell me that they've arranged marriage

Evelyn Thorne

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