Margot POV
I passed out in the back seat.
By the time the car stopped, it was already dark.
Ellen took one look at me, pale and shaky, and fretted.
“Margot, are you sick? You’ve lost weight. You look wiped out.”
“I told you, speech prep, long hours. I’m fine. Just need a couple of days.”
I dropped onto the couch, already half-asleep again.
She sighed and smoothed my hair the way she used to when I was little.
“My girl’s working herself to the bone. Have you eaten? You hungry?”
I managed a tired smile.
“Make me that pasta I love?”
“Done. Rest. I just finished some pot roast if you want a bite while you wait.”
I stretched out, staring at the ceiling of the small apartment.
Compared to the Vanderbilt place, it was nothing special.
But I’d paid for it myself. It was mine.
Ellen
