I shake my head, because I want to hear her explain.
"Top Girl is my right hand gal. I meet with her every Sunday and we discuss the ongoings at the house." She glances at a clock on her nightstand. "In fact, she'll be here soon. We'll have lunch in our room. Might watch a movie when we're done doing business."
She touches my hand briefly. "You know, you're a lot like Lola. Smart, attractive. You figure things out quickly and make them work in your favor. Except Lola is more like a bulldozer, and you're more a rabbit, hopping over girls so no one gets hurt."
"Rabbit. That's what I call you, kid," Mr. Hodge says without looking up.
Madam Karina's lips form a thin line, but she relaxes soon enough. "I'm wondering where the sudden competitiveness is coming from."
"What do you mean?"
The madam touches my bare cheek. "You took off your makeup, and you're working with that Poppy girl."
"Poppet."
"That's right. So what's your end goal? You know I'm happy with all my girls. Even the ones who stay Carnations forever."
I swallow, decide there's no harm in her knowing a piece of my plan. "I want to become a Daisy."
Madam Karina radiates light. "That's fantastic. But why?"
I avert my gaze. I want to trust Madam Karina, and Poppet, and Cain, but for some reason I don't tell her about wanting my own place. So I say, "I want more time with you."
I disgust myself. First, because what I'm saying is true. Second, because it makes me pathetic. Madam Karina may have her faults, but she's been nothing but kind to me. Except for that one time she lost her temper for a moment. But no one's perfect.
Madam Karina throws her legs over the side of the bed and hangs her head.
"Did I do something wrong?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "No, sweetie." She looks up at me, her eyes glistening. "It's just that most of my girls fight among themselves for status only, and maybe money to fatten their accounts. It feels nice to be needed."
For the first time, I realize the madam and I aren't so different. Maybe we've both been abandoned. Maybe we're both cautious to love, and yet desperate for it all the same.
She holds up a finger. "I have an idea, Miss Domino Ray. Did you know that you have to remain Point Girl for the Carnations for three months, and retain your cumulative top earning rank, before being promoted to a Daisy?"
My heart plummets. No, I most definitely did not know that. I can't survive another two and a half months with Mercy and Raquel and the other Carnations. I'll lose my temper. I'll do something terrible.
"I'd like to see how you do with a little motivation." She stands up. "How about I give you one week to prove you are worthy of being a Daisy? If you can get first placement and stay there until next Sunday, I'll promote you. But only this week. And you should know there's no going back. Once you have taken a step up, you stay there."
My breath catches at this challenge. "Why would you do this?"
She shrugs, makes a face like something smells. "Lola is great. But I need new blood to work with. A sharp mind that can help take my home to a higher level." Madam Karina opens her mouth and closes it. Opens it again. "I told you I had a sister … " She hisses the last word. "She has a home for girls, too. It's in Detroit. I often travel days to visit her, which is how you and I came to meet. While I'm there, she talks only of herself and her accomplishments. Do you know someone like that?"
I nod, though I'm not sure I do.
"Disgusting, really. But my mother adored her." Madam Karina crosses the room suddenly, takes my face in her hands. "Do you know what it's like to be ignored? No, of course you don't. Look at that face."
"I know what it's like," I whisper, thinking of my father, who left me all alone.
Madam Karina studies my eyes as if deciding whether I'm being honest. Then she releases me, goes to her dresser, and pulls something from the bottom drawer. It's a piece of manila paper folded twice, lined and yellowing with age. The madam clutches it in her hands before unfolding it and waving me over.
When I come to stand beside her and look down at the paper, my heart clenches. It's a colorful picture drawn by a child's hand. A young stick-figure girl stands outside a house resembling the one we're in now, and beside her is a smiling woman who must be her mother. The mother and daughter are holding hands, and between their fingers is a bushel of violets. In front of them lies a garden of purple violets spraying in all directions. The mother seems to be offering every last one to her daughter.
Above their heads is one word written with an orange crayon.
HOME
That word is the most prominent part of the picture, as if whoever drew this went over and over it until the sheet nearly tore from the pressure.