The intense Georgia sun was unable to damage sixteen year old Katrina’s fair skin as she strolled down the tree lined avenue with a lacy parasol veiling her curls. Ten years had slipped by since the children had vanished never to be seen again. She knew that her parents still talked about it sometimes, in mournful tones, but her family had moved away to a distant city and by and large she had put it behind her.
“Look at that scullery maid,” Katrina remarked, as they passed a young girl sweeping off the side step of a mansion they were passing. “She seems so pretty to be a mere servant.”
The maiden at her side glanced at the youngster. “You’d think she would try to better herself,” she replied disdainfully.
Katrina was silent. Some are born to advantage, some to disadvantage but of course, or unfortunately, we can’t associate with those of a different class. But there was something hauntingly familiar about the younger girl. Something she couldn’t quite place. Maybe she is my sister. She dismissed the thought as ridiculous.
They passed her by, never giving her a second glance and never knowing how the talented young girl stopped to look at them, longing to have the chances they had.
To be continued.
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