Sixty-two:
Cecelia Porter
The morning our engagement announcement was supposed to go live, Delilah over saw everything. Even though we weren’t speaking. “I’ve got a white, Chanel suit for you,” said Delilah. One of her maids came in carrying a dress bag. “My hair and makeup team are going to give you soft curls, they’ll make you look a little bit more mature.”
“Of course,” I said, “we wouldn’t want to remind the audiences at home that I’m only sixteen years-old. Or that I’m being forced into a marriage against my will.” Delilah shot me a look.
“There’s a greater cause here,” she said, “as soon as you accept that, you’ll see what we’re doing is the right thing. You and Henry will have a lovely life together.”
I frowned. “So, when are you and Derek going to start producin
