“Ms. Elizabeth?” Geoffrey, the butler, cautiously put his head through the semi-open door and looked at her. Elizabeth carefully wiped away her tears and met his eye. She knew what he was thinking. Her appearance would be the subject of discussion by her so-called siblings. They’d poke fun at her puffy, blood-shot eyes and the complete lack of make up. They’d make fun of her funny hobble and pockmarked face. On any other day, she’d give them a piece of her mind; but not today. Her father had always taught her to celebrate her uniqueness. And so she would. The mere thought of his words brought a smile to her lips. But her eyes had started to well up again. “It’s time, Ms. Elizabeth,” said Geoffrey, slowly withdrawing his head from in between the doors.
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