Brooke Read Online Free Page A

has to be spoiled. She must be right. After all, who can deny I have spoiled her?” he said.
    There was a knock on the door, and we turned to see Joline.
    â€œMrs. Thompson sent me to see if Miss Brooke would like me to run her bath now,” she said.
    Miss Brooke? I thought.
    â€œSee,” Peter said, “how Pamela is always thinking ahead. Well?”
    â€œWell what?” I asked.
    â€œWould you like Joline to run your bath now?”
    â€œRun my bath?”
    â€œGet it ready for you?” Peter explained.
    I gazed at the large, round tub in the sparklingbathroom. What was so hard about getting a bath ready?
    â€œI can do that,” I said.
    â€œOf course you can,” he said, “but from now on, someone else will do it for you. It’s what Pamela wants. She wants you to be just like her.”
    Something nudged me deep down inside where all my dreams and secret thoughts were kept. It was like a tiny alarm. An alarm I didn’t quite understand.
    I gazed at my new clothes, my expensive watch, my whole new world, so much more privileged and safe than the orphanage.
    What could possibly be the danger here?

2
Out with the Old

    W hen Pamela had sent Joline to run my bath, she didn’t mean simply to turn on the water. She instructed her on just how much of each of the bath powders and oils to mix as well. I stood by, watching her measure it all out with the precision of a chemist.
    â€œWhat is all that?” I asked.
    â€œThese are things Mrs. Thompson says will keep your skin soft and silky and keep you from aging.”
    â€œAging? I don’t think I have to worry about aging. I’m not even thirteen,” I said.
    She smiled at me as if I had said something very stupid and then turned on the water. After that, she set out big fluffy bath towels and my robe and slippers.
    â€œIs there anything else you need?” she asked me.
    â€œNo,” I said. I couldn’t imagine anything else to ask for.

    â€œHave a nice bath,” she said, and left.
    Have a nice bath? I looked at the tub. At the orphanage, we usually took quick showers, and whenever we took a bath, that was in and out, too. Other people always needed to use the bathroom. What was I supposed to do in a bath except wash and get out?
    I took off my clothes and folded my T-shirt over my jeans neatly, placing them on the counter by the sinks. Even though my clothes were old and worn, it seemed I should treat them special just because they were now here in a bathroom fit for a princess. I had two sinks! Why would one room have two sinks in its bathroom, and what was that bowl next to the toilet?
    The rich marble tiles felt cool beneath my naked feet. I shut off the water. Bubbles had risen so high they threatened to spill over the edge of the tub. I stepped in and lowered myself gingerly. I don’t know how she did it, but Joline got the water just right for me, not too hot, not too cold. It did feel good, and I had to laugh at myself reflected in the mirrors around the tub. There I was with only my head emerging from the small sea of bubbles.
    Instead of a wash cloth, there was a sponge on a handle dangling from the shower rack. I ran it over my legs and sat back to rest my head against the soft, cushioned pillow attached to the bathtub. The soapy water snapped and crackled around me.
    Could it be that fairy tales do come true? How much happier was Cinderella?
    â€œThere you are, a perfect fit,” Pamela said as shecame into my bathroom. She had her hair tied under a small towel and wore a long red silk bathrobe with Japanese letters drawn across the front. There was what looked like layers of thin mud over her cheeks and forehead. “How does it feel?”
    â€œVery nice,” I said, trying not to stare at her.
    â€œJoline put in a little too much bubble bath, I see, but that’s all right. We were born to indulge ourselves, you and I. Your indulgence was put on hold for a while,