From SuspireWiki

Rules have always been a big part of your life. The moment you were able to understand them, you were surrounded by rules. The first one learned was "Don't interrupt." Don't interrupt the adults. The second one was "Don't touch." Don't touch mommy's jewelry, don't touch daddy's papers, and for god sakes Anabel don't touch the art, don't you know how much that costs? Cost was important. Oh, it was never said outright (at least not in company) but it was important. Mommy and daddy had so many people they needed to impress after all. You realized as you got older what your parents were. They were the new rich. They were the ones who found importance in wealth and thought wealth made them important. They sent you to best schools, which was an awful mistake.

At school you met other girls, then you met their families. You saw their families weren't like yours. You saw that their families actually had class to go along with their wealth. You tried to mimic them of course. It got you a slap at home. Your mother said you were being uppity, she asked if you were too good for your own family now. After the first year of school you were pulled out abruptly. You were told you would have private tutors. Then year after year, you had a new tutor. You never had time to make friends with any of them. Every two years the staff was replaced. You never got to know any one. After the first three times, you were used to it. You didn't expect to have friends. Oh, you were allowed out - with an escort - but you weren't allowed to go to the same place often. You weren't allowed to leave people ways to contact you. In the end, you weren't allowed to know any one.

Thus every time you hit it off with someone, you tried to slip them your address. You just wanted a pen-pal. You wanted someone to talk to. Of course, any mail you got was intercepted, so it didn't help. That is, until the information age. When emails rolled around, you made a success. You slipped another girl your email address while you were in the dressing room at Saks together. Your escort - watcher if you want to be honest - wouldn't follow you there. Little did you know that it was a meeting "allowed" by your parents. You managed to find one of the few people that they deemed acceptable to contact. So for five years you kept up communication with Madison Montgomery, lately of Atlanta.

You'd find out later that there was something wrong with you. That you stayed young when other people got old. It didn't occur to you though, not really, until your mother started to get old. You asked questions, of course. You were told it must have been passed down from your father. Your father was still young after all. Now the servants were being dismissed every six months. It was somewhat scandalous. It got to the point that entire years would pass without you going out more than a handful of times. You chafed under the restriction. You'd try to sneak out only to be caught and brought back. It wasn't until your mother was dying that you found out the real truth. You were in her room, you were supposed to be entertaining her but she was so far deteriorated that she couldn't see you. She couldn't hardly even hear you. Methodically you went through her things. You found her journal. You read it.

You read the story of how your mother was young, how she was seduced by wealth. You read about her marriage - the arranged affair designed to bring new blood into the bloated and inbred Crassus line. You read about the history. You saw how your mother longed to be apart of it. You read about miscarriage after miscarriage. Your read how she stayed in bed for the entire time of your confinement. You read about how the doctors declared her unable to carry another baby to term after you. You read about her despair when their funds were cut off out of vengeance. You read about how your mother thought about killing you as her own retribution. You read about how that threat started the money trickling back in. You read about the man you were intended to marry and the hopes for the children you would birth.

You meticulously planned your escape. It was obvious you'd be hunted. No one would let you go. It became obvious now why you had no friends, no longtime servants. You wanted more. You wanted more than the life your mother had. It was the morning of the funeral. Few people were there. Your mother didn't have friends, she wasn't allowed friends. Afterwards though there was a meeting at your home. There were important people there. People you weren't allowed to see or speak to. The staff was skeletal, just hired on for the comfort of these people. They were new, they didn't know to watch you. You slipped out quietly. You lived low the next couple of years as you made your way south. You lived in buildings you'd never even seen before. You met people. You lived. Then you took a risk, you went to someone they knew about. It was a big city, it was Atlanta. You thought she was a secret. She wasn't.