At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard. “Going to visit our little friend the vampire?” “What?” He asked, incredulous. \" He paused in awkward silence as they walked outside the red double doors. She did not wince. "Are you a poltroon, after all?" "That's it! I ought to have died that night!" "Or is there a taint of insanity in your family history? Alone and practically penniless like yourself! You weren't even stirred by gratitude. ” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. She did not want to feel such negative emotion towards any member of her foster family. Not that it would make any difference if he was alive still.
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