Chapter 117

Janet escorted Kayla and Starissa to their seats, a grand entrance for the auction’s finale guests. Paisley, seated with girls from a poor village, saw them immediately. A frown creased her face. A teacher, noticing Paisley’s discomfort, asked, “Are you alright?”

Paisley forced a smile. “Fine,” she murmured. A young girl, Annie, shyly reached for Paisley, wanting a hug. “Annie, no,” her teacher interrupted, fearing a misstep. Years of working with neglected girls had taught them caution. Annie’s eyes fell.

Paisley gently scooped Annie into her arms. “Come here, sweetheart.”

“Her clothes are dirty,” a teacher whispered.

Paisley shrugged. “I don’t mind. I have a daughter about her age.” The teachers relaxed, relieved. They’d seen too much feigned compassion, smiles masking disdain.

“Her name is Annie?” Paisley asked.

The teacher shook her head. “Asshat Dung. We call her Annie.”

Paisley’s breath hitched. She glanced at the other girls. Their faces held a similar bleakness. “There’s Asshat, Dumbwit…” The teacher trailed off, her gaze settling on the oldest girl. “And Slut.”

Paisley and Lucy exchanged a horrified look. “Slut?” Lucy’s voice was sharp with anger.

Paisley stared at the girl, her face numb. A desperate wish bloomed in Paisley’s heart: that her paintings would sell, that she could help these girls.

The auction began. Paisley turned to find her seat occupied. Strangers were deep in conversation. She and Lucy stayed put. Kayla and Marissa held court in the front row. Marissa, regal and self-assured, owned the spotlight. She’d demanded the best seats, a maneuver that had tested Janet’s diplomacy. Fortunately, the original guests had graciously relinquished their places.