the marble floor.
“Dulce.” Priscilla’s gaze traveled from my drugstore makeup to my scuffed heels, her lips pressing into a thin line of disappointment. “You couldn’t find anything nicer to wear? This is the Plaza Hotel, not a coffee shop.”
“This is what I have, Mom.”
“Well.” She adjusted her Cartier bracelet, the diamonds catching the light. “You’ll continue reading …
