Rose was suspiciously late for the ball. She had put on her best dress. Her corset was twice as tight as normal, pushing her waist in and breasts out. She had actually wasted money on very cheap make up, which she had spent forever on applying. She had been lurking around the stairs, waiting for the doorbell, but mr. Meijer got there first. Why did this guy like answering doors so much? Sulking, she made her way back to her room to wash the make up off her face and prepare for the ball.