BELLA'S POV
The call came on a Wednesday.
I know it was a Wednesday because I had been marking time in the estate the way you mark time in places you didn't choose, by small domestic landmarks rather than actual days. The Wednesday was the day Petra changed the flowers in the entrance hall from white to pale yellow, which I only noticed because I had been on my way downstairs and the color caught the light differently and for a moment, a very brief and stupid moment, the yellow made me think of a dress I had since returned to the back of the wardrobe.
I had returned the dress to the back of the wardrobe on Sunday.
Four days of victory was apparently the outer limit of my capacity to sustain a thing without examining it too closely, and on Sunday morning I had examined it too closely an
