Chapter Twelve
The Speech
“It was the ‘gangster’ that swung it, that inspired the new women in a black suit.”—The Voted In formerly known as the market cleaner
Beryl eyed her reflection. The last few weeks had gone just as she’d planned.
The stage was set, her time had come, and she was going to make the most of it, get in early, overwhelm the room with a view before they were sidetracked by Kate’s posh biscuits.
She slid on the crisp jacket and posed. It set off her shoulders to a tee—screamed control.
She liked the black suit; striding in it was a breeze and way better than the footmen’s outfit.
Beryl turned, looked around at the bustling basement. Under a sea of bubble wrap were bike frames, templates, and flat-pack packaging. In the middle were Jester and Nell, entertaining the
