Tattertale

Helena rushed to the parking lot and drove as fast as she could. She almost crashed into a flower vendor because she needed to go home. The Duchess needed to know what she had seen. It would flip her and witnessing her mother flip because of an imbecile who disrespects the decree she so valued among the other decrees she had imposed to keep their race alive was almost exhilirating for her. Solandra will exhaust everything under her command to find the identity of the culprit. No one dares to insult her by disobeying her.

She paused for a while when she saw on her rear view mirror the look of dismay and defeat of the vendor she had almost ran over. She know that look. The look of disappointment. Her foot on the gas pedal wanted to go ahead and forget what she was looking at, but her head says otherwise. She grabbed her purse and disembarked her car.

“I am sorry, I was just in a hurry.” She apologized at the woman.

“I know.” The vendor said.

From this proximity, Helena can tell that sh