By six, I had arranged eighty-seven pieces of crystal stemware.
At seven, Margaret inspected the dining hall.
She wore ivory silk and a double strand of pearls.
Her silver hair was swept into a perfect twist.
“Those flowers are too low.”
“The florist placed them that way.”
“I didn’t ask who placed them.”
I raised the arrangements.
At eight-thirty, Grace appeared at the service entrance wearing pajamas.
“Mom?”
Margaret turned before I did.
Her expression hardened.
“Why is she here?”
Grace froze.
“I had a bad dream.”
I wiped my hands on my apron.
“I’ll take her back downstairs.”
“No.”
Margaret looked toward the staff.
“The guest suite upstairs. Put all three of them there until this is over.”
I stared at her.
“The door locks from outside.”
“Exactly.”
My stomach tightened.
“Margaret, please.”
She stepped closer.
Her voice dropped.
“Do not embarrass me today.”
“I’m asking you not to lock my children in a room.”
