As the days went by, the transformation became impossible to ignore. Francesca, once the nervous girl who had feared entering a ballroom, now carried herself differently.
For the first time in weeks, Penelope felt something resembling accomplishment at everything that went by. Perhaps Doctor Henry had been right. Perhaps she could still be useful. Perhaps she could still protect someone.
Minutes turned into hours and hours brought the week to a conclusion. The final day arrived faster than either of the sisters expected.
Only one night remained before the Norwood Ball.
The gown was already prepared with the gloves selected, and the invitation had been accepted long beforehand. Everything stood ready.
That evening, Penelope found Francesca standing before her bedroom mirror, staring at herself, nervously twisting her hands. It was the same thing Penelope remembered having done before her own debut years ago.
