I sank into the plushy couch in the massive entrance hall, the cushions so soft they practically swallowed me. The place was like something out of a magazine—polished marble floors, a glittering chandelier overhead, and walls lined with ancient paintings that looked like they belonged in a museum.
I grabbed the glass of juice from the silver tray the maid had left, the liquid catching the light in a swirl of orange and pink. I took a sip, and my eyes widened. It was the freshest thing I'd ever tasted, like someone had squeezed a whole orchard into one glass.
"Mmm," I mumbled, staring at the drink, trying to figure out if it was mixed fruit or some fancy import I'd never heard of.
