I stood there mutely as she giggled and cackled over my appearance. “Oh, this is just picturesque! Here stands Marina Lennon, once a high society girl, once one of the most respected young ladies in the better part of France, now covered in the cinders of my fireplace. Marvellous!”

I breathed through my nose, trying to keep myself in check, trying not to yell at her, trying not to get too upset, trying to keep my sanity and desperately begging myself not to cry. “Hahaha, how does it feel, Marina, to have sunk so low? Tell me, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be worthless. I can’t imagine it would feel very good; to feel like dirt.” She was having so much fun. I closed my eyes against her abuse, but blocking that sense only made my hearing stronger.

“I wonder what your father would think, seeing his daughter like this. What do you think he would say?” She paused, like she was thinking. “Probably something like ‘’why didn’t I think of that before?”

I didn’t want to cry. I tried not to. I failed.