The next morning, Vincent gave Dorothy the day off so she could rest. After breakfast, she headed downstairs, keys in hand, ready to drive out on her own. Bill, the driver, was already waiting by the car in the parking lot. He quickly stepped up.
"Mrs. Valentine, where are you headed? I can drive you," he offered.
Dorothy shook her head. "I want to go alone," she said firmly, not wanting anyone tagging along. She had things to say to her father, things she needed to say in private.
Bill's face turned red with concern, and he stammered, "Madam, the master gave strict orders. He said if I don't take care of you, I'll be fired. Please, I really can't afford to lose this job."
Dorothy sighed. "Fine. Take me to the flower shop."
Bill drove her to a nearby florist, where she selected an ele
