“Ella,” Martha said in a voice I knew meant trouble. “What are you doing?”
I got to my feet and winced at the expression on her face.
“Cleaning the fireplace, like you told me t-to,” I stuttered. “I’m almost done.”
“Are you crazy?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “What about my dress? It hasn’t been pressed yet, and you need to stretch out my shoes as well, you know they’re a size too small!”
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, my cheeks coloring as I averted my gaze. “I guess I got distracted.”
“That’s no excuse,” she insisted, grabbing my arm.
I resisted, but she wouldn’t let go, so I glared at her, saying, “So you are still going to the ball?”
“Why is that a question?” she laughed in my face. “Of course I’m going to the ball, you silly girl. I got an invitation, didn’t I?”
“I… I think…” I started, my words hanging in the air unspoken.
“You think what?” Martha’s eyes cut through me like daggers. “Well, speak up!”
“I think the in-invitation w-was meant for me,” I stammered. “I m-mean, Rafael said so when he w-was here.”
“Rafael?” Martha repeated, then pulled on my arm once again, more painfully this time around.
I gasped and let go of my dirty rag as she dragged me to the full-length mirror on the wall in the entryway.
“Look at yourself, Ella,” she said, making me look up. “What do you see when you look in the mirror?”
I raised my eyes fearfully to my own reflection.
The girl that stared back at me looked nothing like the old me before my dad passed away. The girl in the mirror had a different body—she’d grown up and blossomed into a woman. But she didn’t look happy. In fact, with the soot covering her hands and her downturned mouth, she looked miserable. The only sign of life was in her eyes. They sparkled with hopes and dreams, the ones her stepmother hadn’t trampled to death just yet.
“Me,” I replied simply, and she sighed.
“Exactly,” she exclaimed. “It’s you, Ella. And you really think a man like Mr. Goldwyn—don’t you dare call him Rafael—would invite you to his ball?”
She laughed and my stomach fell. I felt sick.
“Never, Ella,” she went on. “So why don’t you just accept that and move on? Time to get to work, isn’t it? My dress isn’t going to iron itself.”
“Yes, Martha,” I whispered, turning away from the mirror because I couldn’t face the tears in my eyes.
“Oh, what’s this?” she said awkwardly, and I looked up at her, the tears threatening to fall. “Don’t be sad, Ella. You will find someone who cares about you.”
“But not you, and not Raf… Mr. Goldwyn,” I added bitterly, and she gave me the fakest smile I’d seen in my life. “It’s okay. I will do what you asked.”
I moved away from her, her voice ringing in my ears as I took the stairs two at a time.
“I didn’t ask you Ella, it was an order!”The hours passed slowly, and as time went on, I felt lower and lower.
I watched Martha get ready for the ball, putting on her over-the-top gown that was much too young for her, and a pair of staggeringly tall heels she could barely walk in. She completed the ensemble with a tiara that looked plastic and painfully cheap. She was a princess, she said, winking at me and saying she would soon be a queen.
I didn’t say anything, I knew better than that. One wrong word and I’d have a punishment hanging over my head.
I said goodbye to her at the door, watching her get in the limo she’d hired. It was a little pretentious, but once again, I kept my mouth shut and my eyes down, so she wouldn’t question anything.
The dream of going to the ball was well and truly over. And this thing between Rafael and me… obviously it was nothing. I was nothing but a momentary distraction to him, and once he’d gotten his fill, he’d forgotten all about me. What else was I expecting? The man could have any woman in the world, so why should he settle for little old me? I was inexperienced, and my looks couldn’t compare to the models he went out with. I looked like a child next to them.
Once I was left alone, I started packing my things.
I didn’t have a lot. Mostly everything had been taken away or lost in the move, according to my stepmother. But what little I had fit perfectly into a small backpack I’d had for years. I packed some clothes and a few things I couldn’t leave behind, like a small book of fairy tales my dad used to read to me from when I was a little girl. Once I was done, I looked around the house, feeling detached from my surroundings. I missed the house where I’d lived with my father, but I wouldn’t miss this one. Apart from Rafe’s visit, there were no good memories here, just dreams withering away. And even that memory was tainted now, ruined by my stepmother.