CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Tamara
“No,” I said.
It came out of me in a whisper. “No, Miss. I don’t know how.”
I waited for the disappointment. I had spent my whole life expecting people to be disappointed in me.
She closed the door behind her.
“Then we’ll start with you,” she said.
I did not understand. Nobody had ever started with me about anything. I existed to be the one who started with other people, the one who fetched and carried and dressed and waited, and the idea that I could be the thing being tended to did not fit inside my head at all.
“Miss—”
“Lily,” she corrected firmly.
I blinked at her in confusion.
“When it’s the two of us.” She sat down on the edge of my narrow bed, which nobody had ever sat on but me, and the mattress dipped and I felt it move through my whole body. “
