Pearl looked up from the bench in the foyer of Miss Marlowe’s School and saw Miss Marlowe herself. Her formal tone fit the mood of the day. So did the woman’s attire. She stood before Pearl in the full regalia of a navy dress loaded with trim. Pearl stood and offered her hand. “Good morning, Miss Marlowe.” “Are you ready?” “Yes, I am.” She put iron in her voice, but her palms were damp inside her gloves. Miss Marlowe indicated a corridor. “Follow me.” With their heels clicking in unison, they walked toward a fan of light indicating an open door. As voices filtered from the room, Pearl recalled the past hour. She’d been nervous and hadn’t eaten breakfast. Toby had spat up twice. When she couldn’t manage her hair, Carrie had stepped in and fixed it. Mercifully she hadn’t argued about winding the braid in a tight coronet. Last, she’d helped Pearl into the blue dress and given her a hug. Bolstered by the gown and Carrie’s kindness, Pearl entered the conference room with a smile.
