“Can you spell your name for me?”
“A-r-i-e-n-n-e. V-i-l-l-e-n-e-u-v-e.”
“And how old are you?”
“I’m forever 23.”
Colette held Nora’s hand as she talked, watching Lady LaFleur scribble things onto her paper.
“What made you want to establish your own house?”
“I didn’t want to be pushed around by anyone. I know that it’s the best bet I have of controlling my own life, and it’ll help cement me in the community as someone who fights for what she wants.”
“What do you think of Francine Gauthier – your maternal grandmother?”
Colette’s grip on Nora tightened.
“I think she’s a cruel woman, and I feel no sadness in the fact that I never met her in my childhood.”
“Can you elaborate on why you challenged her to the Danse Macabre?”
Colette ran her free hand through her blonde hair, messing up the ponytail just a little bit. She thought, brow furrowing. Why did she?