One week later, the sisters were living in Reaver's Bloodstone Mansion. Sparrow's mind was amazed that Rose was so easily charmed by the man after he had attacked them. She figured it was the words he spoke after the incident:

"Oh, I apologize for my rudeness!" and "I'll give you and your darling sister a warm home to live in!"

Sparrow didn't know what he wanted with two orphans, but she knew for a fact he wasn't capable of generosity the instant he broke her ankle.

He often smiled at them and made sure they were comfortable, but many times Sparrow had caught him giving them a sneer when he thought they weren't looking. She wanted to tell Rose, but what was the point? She would probably brush it off and tell her to be grateful.

Sparrow was currently walking down a brightly lit hallway when, to her left, a door opened. A moment later, Reaver gracefully stepped through the archway in his earthy red clothes. The vain man spotted her and the young girl thought she saw his mouth twitch momentarily. She figured he was fighting back another sneer.

"Why, hello darling Sparrow!" he greeted, giving a false and strained smile, "how is your ankle?"

Sparrow remained silent, but looked down at her ankle as he mentioned the body part. It was already healed. She always thought this was odd when she lived in Bowerstone because when other children broke bones, sometimes it took up to two months for them to heal. For her ankle, it had only taken four days.

When she glanced back up, she wasn't surprised to see the sneer on his face. It was gone not a second later, replaced with another unpleasant smile.

"Do you enjoy your new clothes?" he tried again, and Sparrow couldn't help but wonder why. She knew he didn't care, even if her sister didn't notice.

Reaver had done away with their dirty and rotted clothing the instant they set foot in his mansion, and had muttered something under his breath. Sparrow had barely caught the word 'disgusting' before he had ushered them into some room. Then he had the tailor from the village come to his mansion and take their measurements. Everyday since then, Sparrow and Rose had received new dresses.

Sparrow had a total of nine dresses so far, and she knew they were expensive from the material and colors they were made of. It was a known fact that commoners and peasants wore brown and other neutral colors, while the upper-classes wore the more flamboyant colors.

The dress she was wearing currently was light pink with random patterns she couldn't make sense of. It didn't matter much, as the only reason why she wore it was because Rose insisted and because she had nothing else to wear. If it were her choice, she'd run around in pants all day long, swinging her toy sword at the flawless wooden walls and shooting her toy gun at the numerous paintings of Reaver.

Sparrow's eyes wandered to the gun that the tall man had belted at his waist, and remembered the cold sting she had felt when it was pressed to her forehead one week ago. She narrowed her eyes at it, and the man must have noticed because he gave a quiet chuckle.

"Miss your toy gun, do you?" he taunted, "perhaps if you speak you will get it back."

The young girl looked away in anger. This was the side of Reaver that Rose never saw.

Sparrow knew he made jabs at her when her older sister wasn't around because he knew she wouldn't say anything back, and she also suspected because he took some type of enjoyment out of it.

Determined to ignore him and continue on her way, Sparrow took a step forward, intent on getting to her room where she wouldn't be bothered by the man. Unfortunately, she never made it that far because the man held out his hand, blocking her path.

"Ah ah ah, darling," he sang, using that horrible pet name, "dinner was just announced. Why don't you accompany me to the dining hall, hm?"

Sparrow heard her stomach grumble and knew she was trapped.

With a barely audible sigh, she walked with him down the stairway until they eventually came upon the dining room. Just as they were walking in, Sparrow saw a butler pull out a seat for Rose. She was wearing a deep purple dress in similar style to Sparrow's.

"Hello, Reaver," Rose spoke, a shy smile making its way onto her face.

"Good evening, Rose," the vain man replied, walking further into the room with Sparrow by his side.

The young girl grabbed her chair and was about to pull it out herself, but was interrupted by Reaver who did it instead. Hesitantly, she sat down, and then the chair was pushed in. She glanced up to see an expectant look on the man's face, like he was waiting for her to thank him.

Sparrow did no such thing and turned forward to face Rose who was sitting directly across from her. The older sister was giving the young girl a look, and that was when she knew that Rose was going to have a word with her when Reaver wasn't around. Not that it would make much difference; Sparrow wasn't going to be polite to a man whom she knew despised her.

Soon after that, shining plates filled with warm and gorgeous food were set on the wooden table, steam rising from foods that were especially hot. Reaver ate his meal with the utmost manners with Rose trying to copy as best she could. Sparrow, on the other hand, stabbed her fork into the food, pretending that it was the man's face. One of the foods she stabbed actually popped from the pressure, and she liked to imagine that it was Reaver's eye.