Chapter Thirty-Three
Richie woke in a daze. His head ached from the scarf bound tightly around his head and the metal curlers digging into his scalp. After his second whipping, his mother had put his hair up in curlers. Between the agony of the curlers and thinking of Emma, he hadn’t slept very well. Morning sunlight slanted into his bedroom, dazzling his eyes, turning them to slits. He struggled to bring himself into focus. It was difficult to comprehend much less accept this was the day of days.
Last night after his mother had whipped him and tucked him into bed, she had reminded him this was the last night under her roof as her unmarried child. “Tomorrow morning, I’m handing you over to Emma. You will be under her care and in her charge.”
His mother’s words were like scimitars cuttin
