Déjà vu. Two days prior, I’d trembled in shame and confusion as Mrs. Cleanknockers stripped me of both pride and pretense, scouring my soul clean of expectations. The Infirmary: A subtle name to the bright and cheerful room I now eagerly entered for my salvation. Surrendering my privacy for good, I stood tall, patiently awaiting the arrival of my presumed husband-to-be. Mrs. Cleanknockers bustled preparing the stage for my performance. Their voices arrived first. A jealous foreboding flashed. The light laughing and the deeper rumbling caused fists to clench and my thighs to throb. Evidently I’d not yet sufficiently atoned.
You can go to this page which has links to all the complete previous chapters.