BETSY

with strange able men standing by them, it looke

see the shadow of someone standing outside the house; she

lady and expensive, Bett could smell the scent of her cologne from where s

striking, Her skin shown under the moonlight was flawless, glow

ls on her shoulder in perfect waves, lookin

ody in high-end fabrics - each piece chosen with a

highlight her deep green eyes, her red plump lips, and the delicate contour of her face, but it never seems e

ng about her speaks wealth and elegance. The way she

Bett could swear she saw her eyes dart from gre

id as she walked past her wi

came out. " She knew her name, fat

ass elegance find her way here'?? This narro

t good fortune finally found them?? "Fre

t; is t

ther "Mark" standing with a bucket in his hands.

me today", Mother and I were worried that something

res about my whereabouts". Bett

d about this, you kn

red about her whereabouts, she never cared; no one does, except Mark' of course! Everyone else thinks about themselves and fights for what they desire. All these stories Mark was mak

age; I was too busy to tend to the other storie

getting married Mark?"

t me to know that Bett

she was too tired to do that, she needed to feed the crying worms in her stomach and res

estions about the enigmatic woman she knew nothing of, The m

e grabbed the worn leather bag she had left on the parlor table before leaving the house this morning,

e image of the strange woman. She had a feeling that her curiosity about her wouldn't b

ece of bacon, and a cup of lukewarm te

y shoved a spoonful of soup into her mouth,

dream she had no energy to chase. Tomorrow would bring more ques

mouth, and let out a deep breath.

moved up to her room. The worn bed barely held her

in her mind. But there was no stopping the storm of curiosity about the wealthy woman-Betsy felt it gna

-

ly kissing her face. For a moment, she stayed still, tilting her head towards the direction of the light. Sh

the window?" she tho

low voices of people in the house. It was faint at first, but as she took a deep breath, the arom

cinnamon rolls?"

other's doing. Betsy was sure she was the culprit behind the open windows; She threw her blanket

cinnamon rolls. Usually, it was watery tea and burnt pancakes, because her mother was always too distracted in

embrace. As she entered the sitting room, she spotted her father sitting wit

ny?" she frowned

y rolled over the table - on it were a stack of golden cinnamon r

ett's eyes nearly pop

al event today??" Sh

a grin, beckoned her

ty. Her mother had just offered her a seat at breakfast, something she would never dream of-a gesture so fore