“Anyway, every time something terrible happened, I’d lock myself in my room and then lock myself in my closet and then lock myself in my head, where the stupidest of all my dreams lived, and I’d imagine that one day I’d meet the dashing prince and he’d be everything good and glorious and”—she hesitated, looking suddenly haunted—“well, I suppose I thought he’d be different. Kinder than everyone else.”
