Polly sat on the hot bathtub as the girls assigned to her scrubbed her squeaky clean. She stared in a daze as they made sure every inch of her body was cleaned with the rare oils and frankincense.

The matron stood by the side as she instructed the girls on where to wash.

“Stand up,” she instructed, part with respect and part with authority, as though she knew Polly had no choice but to obey.

Polly hesitated for a brief second, and then she stood up. The matron stared at her from up to ...