I want to scream at Sister Xena! I went to go tell her my best friend Mariposa was sick with fever and couldn't work tomorrow,but when I told her,she said that sick people mean they were suffering from God's wrath for having a profane life. I started to argue and she locked me up in the Toiling Room. I have to sew 110 precisely detailed dresses before I can ever see the light again. I have made 50 since I came into this wretched room. She gives me leftovers,but Sister Celeste gives me milk and rye bread with lard in between. 60 dresses to go and I will be free! Eliza Morris died the Thursday before I came here. Oh please God save us!
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