Chapter 3
Becky had heard stories about Miss Essie King. She could tell stories about Miss Essie King. But nothing compared to seeing Miss Essie King.
She was the only one not wearing a mask. She wore a wonderfully stunning dress that shimmered and shone like the night sky. Her auburn hair, which she vainly died to get rid of the greys, was piled on top of her head. She held a champagne flute that never seemed to empty.
Everyone loved her, and she knew it. Everyone was there because of her. She was able to swan from room to room and let people admire her.
"Hello, my dear Rebecca," Miss Essie said. Becky had managed to wander away from the dance floor. She was the only one who insisted on calling Becky by her formal, given name.
"Miss Essie," Becky said. The older woman embraced her an
