No matter how many times I told Sophia I didn't want help, she wouldn’t listen. I told her as she gently removed me from the bed and dressed it. I told her as she sorted through my unpacked bags and picked out a dress. I said it as she prepared my bath, dressed me, and did my hair.
I kept saying it even as she wowed and said, “Your hair is so thick! I’m going to have fun with it.”
And fun she had.
“There,” she said as she stepped back, her hands pressed to her chest, her eyes bright. “You’re so beautiful, Madam Isabella.”
She said it with such brightness in her voice that I almost believed her. “Please, just Isabella.”
She nodded and held my shoulders gently, turning me to the mirror. “Look.”
I turned to the mirror, trying to push back Richard’s words from that night out of my head
