(Anastasia's POV)I waded in a pile of clothes, half-bohemian, half-sophisticated socialite. The former, I felt compelled to buy but never wore. Mother seemed quietly disapproving of anything yellow and nonconformist, and I took peace signs seriously.Until now, apparently, I packed colors brighter than the sun into a new medium size bag. I dressed the part in a loose blouse, checker-print cigarette pants, and white ankle boots. I caught my reflection in the mirror: an emotionless and distressed woman.On my way to the door, I stopped to unclasp my pearl necklace and dropped it into my jewelry box. Then, I wound up the ballerina, setting her on a lonely pirouette, before I tiptoed down the stairs at three in the early morning.Passing Mom's bedroom door, I tiptoed, trying to not create a single creek in the floor, to not wake her soul, and found out my escape plan.My nerves played havoc as I disabled the home alarm, expecting Lily and the other maids to hear the quiet beep and come ou
Last Updated : 2023-01-29 Read more