# CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
## MELINDA
I got dressed in a simple cotton dress that actually belonged to me, one of the few things I'd bought with the stylist Kieran had sent weeks ago. The dark blue fabric hung loosely on my frame but at least it fit better than Belinda's clothes ever had. I tied my hair back in a ponytail, grabbed my purse with the black card, then headed downstairs.
Bertha was waiting in the kitchen, a middle aged woman with kind eyes and flour permanently dusted across her apron. She'd been working for the Vescari family for fifteen years according to Maria, knew every recipe in Kieran's mother's old cookbook by heart.
"Mrs. Vescari," she said with a warm smile. "Don Vescari told me you wanted to go to the market today. I'm happy to accompany you."
"Thank you, Bertha. I a
