Amilia felt Edith winding her hair, twisting and tightening it around her fist. "It's not like I enjoy hurtin' ya." She pulled until Amilia winced. "But ya have ta learn." Edith continued pulling Amilia's hair, forcing her head back until only the ceiling was visible. "Yer slow, stupid, and ugly. That's why yer still in the scullery. I can't make ya a laundry maid, much less a parlor or chambermaid. You'd embarrass me, understand?"

Amilia remained quiet.

"I said, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Say yer sorry for chippin' the plate."

"I'm sorry for chipping the plate."

"And yer sorry for lyin' 'bout it?"

"Yes."

Edith roughly patted Amilia's burning cheek. "That's a good girl. I'll add the cost ta yer tally. Now as for punishment…" she let go of Amilia's hair and tore the scrub brush from her hand, measuring its weight. She usually used a belt-the brush would hurt more. Edith would drag her to the laundry, where the big cook could not see. The head cook took a liking to Amilia, and while Edith had every right to discipline her girls, Ibis would not stand for it in his kitchen. Amilia waited for a fat hand to grab her wrist, but instead Edith stroked her head. "Such long hair," she said at length. "It's your hair that's gettin' in yer way isn't it? It's makin' ya think too much of yerself. Well, I know just how to fix both problems. You're gonna look real pretty when I-"

The kitchen fell silent. Cora, who was incessantly plunging her butter churn, paused in mid-stroke. The cooks stopped chopping and even Nipper, who was stacking wood near the stoves, froze. Amilia followed their gaze to the stairs.