Estrella

I scratch at the second plain, shapeless Dun’s Crossing dress I’ve worn in four days and try not to cry. My gown lies on the floor of that ridiculous room Anwen took me to, and as much as I’ll miss it, I think I’ll be happier if I never see it again. My scalp aches from leaving the braids and pins in all night. The soreness between my legs makes it impossible to forget what I did.

‘Strella?’ Tess calls. ‘Your mother said you were looking into things, but ...