“Please, stop,” she begged Mr. Turner. “You must realize what a story like this could do to me. It’s not like the other rumors you spread about me, like how I enjoy taunting our servants, or that I put my sewing needles in your shoes. Or worst of all,” she closed her eyes once more, “that I snuck worms into the pies I brought to the orphanage. I can’t show my face there ever again, and you know how much I loved serving there.”
Unheard Voices
