9 years later

Theresa laid on the bottom bunk of a bunk bed. Rows of bunk beds filled the room of the orphanage. The girls were braiding each other's hair, playing with dolls, or making paper boats. News of her mother's death never came. No murder weapon, no suspect, no evidence. Police finally stopped and said it was a suicide. Terry knew that was not true.

Finally, Mrs. Cunningham came into the room. "Quiet girls!", she ordered. Everyone stopped what they were doing and ran to their beds. They formed a line, straight and neat. Theresa groaned and got up, then went to her place. "Where is Theresa?", Mrs. Cunningham asked. Sophie pointed to her. "She is right there, ma'am.", she replied. Terry gulped. Mrs. Cunningham took her hand and said,"You have a visitor".

Theresa never had visitors before, besides the police. She followed Mrs. Cunningham into a room with a table and four chairs. A man with dark, black hair and blue-green eyes was sitting in one chair. He wore a very fancy tuxedo. He must be rich, Theresa wondered as she sat in a chair across from him. Mrs. Cunningham sat next to her.

"Theresa, this is Sir Sharpe. He is interested in adopting you.", she said. Sir Sharpe smiled at Theresa. "Hello, darling. Pleasure to meet you.", he said as he kissed Terry's hand. Terry blushed. Mrs. Cunningham gave Sir Sharpe some papers to fill out. Something crashed in the hall outside. "Oh dear. Excuse me for a minute.", she said as she got up and left. Sir Sharpe nodded and kept filling out the papers.

"So, how old are you?", he asked. "I'm 14.", Terry said. Sir Sharpe smiled and nodded. "Good." Terry stared at the table. She wasn't used to this at all. Finally, the papers were done and she got into a carriage. He is very rich, Theresa thought. Sir Sharpe smiled at her as he sat across from her. "What is your name?", she asked. "It's Thomas. I live in Allerdale Hall. My sister also lives with me. Her name is Lucille." Terry smiled. She never knew that he was evil, but liked her new father just the same, or so she thought he was her father until...

"Theresa. I am not your father, but your master. You are my servant. You will listen to me and do the list of things needed to be done I give you every morning." Startled, Terry nodded. A servant? How can I do that?, she pondered when he showed her around the mansion he lived in. At nighttime, Theresa laid in bed in the guest bedroom and cried herself to sleep.