Chapter 23
I have newfound respect for fish. I try to extend the foot of my pages, but I’m still trapped in the netting of her bag.
The winter sun streams through the windows. After her morning cleaning and coffee-making ritual, Esmé mercifully frees me from the bag. I stretch and try to work out the creases that have formed on my cover. They make me look so much older. I whisper to François but he keeps sleeping. Poor thing must be exhausted.
Esmé sits down, places me in her lap with the notebook to her right and a small pencil primed to underline words she wishes to learn. Regrettably, this means that Dictionary is beside us. It’s time to perform for Esmé and her pencil again.
Agnes sat in her room, contemplating her options: Follow her heart or follow the expectations of her family.
