Rosina found Gretel near the forbidden shelf, her sharp eyes scanning the dark, dusty trinkets. “You like to explore,” Rosina said, breaking the silence.


    Gretel shrugged. “So?”


    Rosina gestured to the room. “This house is full of secrets. Doors that open only when they’re needed. Passages that shift when no one’s looking. I want you to map it. See where it takes you.”


    Gretel frowned, skeptical. “Map a house? How does that help?”


    Stolen novel; please report.


    Rosina’s smile was faint but knowing. “The house likes to test people. It doesn’t stay the same for long. If anyone can figure out its patterns, it’s you.”


    Intrigued despite herself, Gretel set to work. She carried scraps of parchment and a piece of charcoal, sketching the layout of the house as she explored. At first, it was maddening—the hallways stretched or shortened as she walked, and doors appeared only to vanish moments later.


    But Gretel’s sharp mind thrived on the challenge. She began to notice patterns: certain doors opened only when she touched them in a specific way, and some rooms appeared when she was searching for something specific. By evening, her map was a chaotic patchwork of lines and symbols, but it told a story no one else could see.


    She showed it to Rosina that night, her chest swelling with pride. “The house changes,” Gretel said, holding up the parchment. “But it’s not random. It’s… like a puzzle. I think I’m starting to figure it out.”


    Rosina nodded approvingly. “You are. The house respects those who respect its magic. Keep going, and you’ll see how it rewards those who learn its ways.”