Rose woke to familiar voices bickering in the room. The drapes of the bed hid their faces and everything else from view, but there was no way Rose would mistake those voices for anyone else.
The sun had risen, and she could clearly see the light seeping through the drapes. She didn't have to look around to know she was alone in bed. She had overslept. The girls were still arguing. Rose couldn't figure out why.
"No, you can't place it there. Did you forget what Welma said? Have you never arranged personal belongings before? Do I have to tell you everything?"
"What are you talking about? I am doing everything as she said."
"No, you are not. You don't fold the dresses like that."
Rose heard a loud swish of fabric, as though it had been pulled from someone's grasp.
"Isla, you unpack them and I will place them in their proper places—Ah!" she yelled in fright as she noticed Rose peeking out through the drapes.
"Good morning, Chelsy," Rose replied, and she slipped out of bed.
