The Governess of Penwythe Hall
by: Sarah E. Ladd
Cornwall, Southwest England
A biting gust of Cornish wind screamed downward from the churning sky, billowing Cordelia Greythorne’s jet-black traveling cape. She reached to secure the hood atop her head, and as she did, her grip on her valise slackened. The heavy bag plummeted to the snow-laden ground below.
I’ve had those moments. Those moments when it seems like even the weather is against you. I can relate a little to Mrs. Greythorne. How about you?
NOW IT IS YOUR TURN!
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