*Isla*

“It’s not even in the way she talks or handles business between the servants,” Poppy says as she winds a lock of my hair around a curling iron. “There’s just something strange about her.”

“And Trinity hired her,” I add, dusting my cheeks with blush.

“Yes, and that,” Poppy grimaces, starting on a new curl. “She probably just looks forward to the day I leave, Isla. If I leave. I don’t fall into the ‘be sweet and silent’ type of maid that she ...