Chapter 158 The girl

  Jackson's POV   The door swung open and in stepped a person.   At first, I froze. My heart thumped so hard I thought it might burst out of my chest. Then I saw her—she was small, about thirteen, I guessed, with long dark hair that fell in tangled waves over her shoulders. She wore a plain, old-fashioned dress—like a servant maid's uniform—black skirt, a white apron, and a simple blouse. Her face was tired, her cheeks hollow, and her eyes were downcast, avoiding my gaze.   She carried a tray—metal, heavy-looking, with a white cloth covering it. I observed her, unsure if I should be scared or hopeful. She moved quietly, her footsteps muffled by worn slippers that looked too big for her tiny feet.   The girl paused at the edge of the room, clutching the tray tightly against her chest. Her eyes flicked to me briefly, then quickly away, as if she were trying not to see me. She looked exhausted, like she hadn't slept in days. Her face was pale, and dirt smudged her cheeks, but her expressi