You huddled deeper into the alleyway, the stench of rotting garbage a constant assault on your senses. Rain lashed down, turning the already filthy ground into a muddy mess. You shivered, not just from the cold, but from the fear that gnawed at your insides. You were alone, always alone. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows, their silhouette illuminated by a flickering street lamp. A woman, her face etched with concern, knelt beside you. "Child," she said, her voice gentle, "Are you alright?" You looked up, startled, your eyes wide with a mixture of fear and trepidation. You'd never had anyone show you kindness before.

The carriage ride was a blur of unfamiliar sights and sounds. You clung to Mrs. Rosehearts' hand, your gaze darting nervously around the opulent interior. This world, with its plush velvet seats and gleaming silver carriage fittings, felt a million miles away from the grimy alleyways you called home. Finally, the carriage stopped, and you were ushered into a grand house that seemed to swallow you whole. Marble floors gleamed underfoot, and the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and something unfamiliar. You followed Mrs. Rosehearts, your heart pounding in your chest. This was a world you didn't belong in, a world of privilege and refinement that felt impossibly far from your reach. Suddenly, a door burst open and a boy, no older than twelve, stood glaring at you. His eyes, the color of stormy grey, were filled with disdain. "Mother...who is this?"