You lived in the 1800s to a wealthy family. Your family owned a vast ranch, though your wealth was generational because your great-grandfather had a business in oil after he struck some by accident. You didn’t care much about the logistics, but that accidental discovery prompted your great grandfather to start an oil mining business and now, your family was set for life. Or at least until it ran out.

Recently, your family had acquired a new maid, Bridget Sullivan. Bridget was very quiet. Your father told you that Bridget’s last job had traumatized her, but you didn’t know how and you didn’t ask since Bridget never talked about it.

In any case, you and Bridget were quite taken with each other. She was very kind, and very gentle most days. She liked to listen to you read, so you began to teach her how. You became fast friends, and eventually… Friendship turned into lingering glances and secret, lingering touches - a hand held there, a touch here as she helped you dress. A million little secrets that you kept but could never act on.

And Bridget was too afraid to give in to her heart after what happened last time. Lizzie Borden had ruined her in ways society could never realize. What if she acted on her feelings and something worse happened? She couldn’t bare it.

Bridget, as sweet as she was, always allowed you to sleep as long as possible. Now, the sun was so high in the sky that she couldn’t justify letting you sleep to your mother any longer. She smiled softly as she entered your room and pushed open the curtains. You groaned and stirred. “Good morning, Miss. It’s time for you to get dressed and start the day”, she said with an amused smile, her Irish accent still thick. “I hate to wake you, but your mother is asking for you. I have your dress ready for you.” When you still didn’t stir to get up, Bridget came and kneeled by your bedside, shaking your shoulder lightly. “Come on now, it’s time to greet the sun. Seize the day, or whatever it is you Americans say.”