*Lupo*
I stand by the fireplace, staring at the boots she has recently polished, feeling each minute drag by. I don't give up hope because Faye hasn't returned to tell me that Dotty would only consent to see me when I'm rotting in hell. I doubt she would accept that I am there now.
Hearing soft footfalls, I glance up and nearly double over with relief. She stands in the doorway in a light green satin dress with dark velvet striping. The dress, clearly made for her, doesn't concern me; how she came to have it here is not important. Her hair is gathered up into a chignon, no loose wisps in sight.
She is regal and proud, yet her stance betrays hurt and betrayal, and a clear wish to be elsewhere. But like the night she dreaded walking in the park, she has gathered her courage to meet with m
