Chapter 6
Floating
Mon Cher Journal,
No one knows the real me but me. Uh, that may sound a bit stupid, but it’s not. Sometimes it is true that we don’t know ourselves. That’s because we have lost ourselves, or maybe because we never knew ourselves to begin with.
As a small girl, I was quiet and shy, and my time in the convent made me even more reserved. I was married off—which is quite different from I married—when I was eighteen years old and taken to live here, in this forsaken manor in the middle of nowhere.
My life here in Beardley Manor is more constrained and restrictive than the one I led in the convent where I grew up. It feels like the Middle Ages, instead of the twentieth century.
From the peaks I stole at the employees’ TV, I know women have now personal achievements and f
