Elena's POV
"Can I help you?" I asked when I saw Patricia kneading the dough.
"Can you do it?" Patricia asked.
"I'm used to it," I replied quickly.
Patricia looked at me tenderly, her hand reaching for the strands of my hair that fell messily onto my face.
"Why don't you try using the potion I made?" she asked with a frown.
I was a little confused about to answer. No, it certainly wasn't that I didn't believe in it. I was just afraid in case it didn't work.
"What are you afraid of?" Patricia questioned me.
"Aren't you afraid of my face?" I asked her.
Patricia smiled softly.
"What do I have to be afraid of?" She caressed me like a mother caressing her daughter.
"My face. Everyone says my face is hideous, and they treat me like a wrecked piece of meat." I tried to keep the tears
