P's son, have brought a wailing Stella back. My cousin, Matthew Jones, wh

Gable. She has worked for us for twenty years, but Stel

your own sister?" she scolds, her hands on

d have been mortified.

me, I s

one freezes. Mrs. Gable stares at me, her

voice dangerously low. "You are sta

ng two minutes late. You charge them for breaking a single dish. My parents have never done that. Y

shed with anger. "Jocelyn, that's e

ive arm around Stella. "We need to do something. Mayb

men ready to confine me for the cr

the front

lchair, flanked by two serious-looking aides. The atmos

oice like ice. "I suggest yo