Harlow
I blink away the fog in my eyes, confused about where I am. I’m lying on a soft bed in an unfamiliar room. I slide my eyes across the room without moving. It’s gorgeous, modern, yet regal. It looks like something out of a dream.
Oh, now I remember. I died. I was burned at the stake for a crime I didn’t commit!
It’s strange that I didn’t feel any pain. But I imagine the smoke got to me before the fire did. Thank the Gods for that because burning alive did not appeal to me.
I hope Vogue is found out for her lies. I don’t wish death upon her because that is not who I am. But I do hope she’s punished for what she did.
There were so many things I wanted to do and so many places I wanted to visit. Claudette and Jack promised to take me to France one day to see where they grew up. I’m
