That was the moment she decided to hate Sylvia von Wolff. Within a year, Sylvia published her first book. Lorelei had devoured it with a vicious hunger—and all the ones that followed. She refused to be uninformed in her hatred. What could she say about her work? Sylvia sailed in every wind and danced in every stream. It was drivel. And yet it enraptured her. Her tales were charming, and they detailed every adventure Lorelei had yearned to have. Her exuberant, heartfelt sincerity was enough to win over even those most suspicious of her. It only made Lorelei’s resentment burn brighter.
