18
Chapter Two
T
here wasn’t much sunlight left to shine through the stiff
lace curtains when Hattie picked up the last tea towel from
the basket. A stack of freshly mended towels, napkins, and
other small items sat in a neatly folded pile beside her chair.
Hattie rubbed her eyes, and then squinted to thread the
needle one more time. If she worked fast, she’d be done
before the light was gone.
A rustle of silk and the scent of rose water came into
the room and paused behind her, but Hattie didn’t look up
from her work.
“About done?” Miss Bradford’s voice was low and
scratchy, like she’d swallowed a handful of sticks that never
went down.
“Yes, ma’am,” Hattie replied, the steel needle sliding
in and out of the fabric, trailing white thread behind. “Just
have this one left.”
