Pure white gloves to hide the calluses and scars. Neatly pressed clothes to display her unearned status. Perfectly clean blades that concealed the secrets of her stained hands. Her body shook and suddenly the scent of rotting flesh and unwashed bodies consumed her, throwing her back into irons and torn ragged clothes. She sloshed through mud instead of pacing clean plush rugs and tasted moldy cheese in place of the chocolates she’d consumed earlier.
