By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
The magnificent red rose stood in an antique vase on the corner of her old writing desk. The scent from this single, red rose nearly overwhelming, yet oddly calming.
The rose arrived every single Friday the thirteenth without fail, without a card stating who it was from or from where. Inevitably, no matter who stayed in this room, day or night; the rose appeared as if out of thin air.
Butler Joseph stated the red rose never appeared until the new lady of the house had arrived, so it was definitely meant for her.
Lady Annalisa was not convinced, yet.