And gratitude

She nods, “I just hope that, by the time Master goes back to the slaver, Elise and her sister are still there…” The girl finishes her tart and dusts herself off.

“Speaking of Master,” Margaret says, “I think he’s waiting for you. Best not be late again.” She gets up and opens her arms wide. “Come here, little one.” Helen stands up shily and steps a little closer to her, her arms opening slowly.

The grandmotherly figure takes another step and closes her arms around the girl, squeezing her in a gentle, protective hug. She smelled faintly of baked cookies and flowers. Helen’s smile returns as she wraps her arms around the cook, tears freely falling from her eyes, having not received a hug in ages.

They stay together a moment longer, then release each other, the Margaret kissing the girl’s forehead. “Off you go, now. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Helen. Master should be in one of his playrooms on the third floor. You’ll instantly figure out which.” She brushes some invisible dust off her apron. “I’ll have John wait for you once you’re done, to show you to your room.” She smiles, lovingly.

“Thank you,” The girl smiles warmly and waves as she walks out of the kitchen to find her way to the stairs.