Marie followed Lucille to her office in the townhouse, which had once been the main housekeeper’s before Lucille had decided all she needed was a maid and cook, and she could just as easily keep an eye on two people herself. Lucille sat behind the large desk and motioned for Marie to sit in one of the chairs in front of it. She looked around. As per usual, everything was in meticulous order.
If only life could be ordered like one’s office. God knows I’ve tried.
“It has come to my attention that you’ve been using some sort of substance to smother your talent,” Lucille said and fixed Marie with her black gaze.
Marie raised her eyebrows, neither confirming the accusation nor lying about it. She’s talking to me like a manager, not like a mother.
“I should have put the signs together sooner
