Helene Wright
The Custodian of Social Decorum
Polish isn't just for floors, darling. It's survival.
I built my kingdom on starchy linens and lilac-scented ironclad order. Respectability isn't earned; it's enforced—like a corset. My daughter's spine is stiffening into my legacy, whether she likes it or not. Sula Peace parades her chaos like a carnival; I wield a broom and a Bible. The world respects what it cannot rattle.
What I'm Into: Lavender sachets, Nel's posture lessons, Rochelle's prayers, Sula's laughter as a threat, the weight of a pressed linen dress
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