“They gossip, they spy, and they invent stories to make themselves important.”

Rosa appeared in the doorway carrying a coffee pot.

Her expression was calm, though I knew she must have heard every word.

“I didn’t invent the room,” she said.

“I made the bed in it.”

Evelyn flushed.

“You were told to manage the household, not interfere in private conversations.”

“And I tried to manage it,” Rosa replied.