Thomas exclaimed, his velvet voice rising in a rare, desperate plea that cracked with genuine fear.
I sat entirely frozen on the velvet settee, my mouth slightly agape as I stared at the two of them groveling at my feet.
The sheer, terrifying velocity of their panic left me completely blindsided. My mind frantically spun its gears, entirely short-circuiting as I looked down at Mary.
Her small hands were white from how tightly she was clutching the fabric of my green silk gown, her eyes brimming with fat, pooling tears that threatened to ruin the meticulous makeup we had just finished an hour ago.
Wait... what?
My contemporary author brain scrambled to process the absolute, unadulterated absurdity of the situation. I was not furious. I was not about to unleash a tyrannical tirade or draft a formal decree of banishment.
