Belle couldn't find a way to get to sleep. Around her, wails and screams from other rooms could clearly be heard through the paper-thin walls that surrounded her.

If only, she thought to herself, I could break through those walls and flee… and free anyone else who was locked here for no reason, as well!

She sat up on the bed and looked around. Besides the bed, the only other object in the room was a dirt-covered stand-up mirror. Sighing, she examined herself in it, attempting to smooth down her hair and return herself to a presentable state. But what was the point if it would just lead to another day in this asylum? Better to leave herself looking horrible and get out of here sooner. What could she use the mirror for? Break it and try to pick the lock with a piece of glass? Oh, that would never work.

She remembered reading a book in which a girl found a secret door inside a mirror. She wished that she could do that – and that the door would lead to someplace that was NOT the Maison des Lunes!

But quite frankly, if she had to stay here, temporarily, it might be best to make the best of it. She took out the ribbon that was holding her ponytail together and retied it, pulling it tight and smiling as she thought of what she would be doing if she were back at home – reading.

Could it be possible that this sordid place had some books in it? It was possible, as D'Arque seemed, if morally reprehensible, rather well-educated. But she was not in the mood to ask him for anything.

I'll stay here as long as I have to. But I WILL get free. And when I do… I'll prove to the town just what happened, and Gaston had better be sorry.

Until then, I can pretend to step through the mirror into another world.

She lay back and finally drifted off to sleep.

She awoke the next morning to the sound of a feather-duster lightly tapping her door.

"Hello," a voice said brightly. Belle sat up and rubbed her head. She hadn't slept well, but due to the fact that there was no pillow and she was sleeping on wood, that could be expected. "Hello, rise and shiiiiiine," the voice called again.

Belle stood up and walked to the door and peeping through the hole.

"Hello?" Belle said back.

"Why, hello! You're a pretty one!" replied the voice on the other end. It was followed by a giggle as the door opened. Belle found herself looking at a tall, chubby girl who seemed to be about twenty, who had long, curly reddish-brown hair. "My name's Amorette. What's yours?" She giggled again and brushed Belle's face with the feather duster. A clump of dust flew in Belle's face and she coughed. "Whoops!" Amorette exclaimed, "Sorry!"

"It's alright," Belle replied, putting on a shy smile, "I'm Belle."

"Well, Belle," Amorette said, "The Monsieur would like to talk with you." Belle uneasily hesitated, unsure of whether Amorette was an employee, an inmate, or some combination of both.

"So, when did you get here?" Belle asked, as they walked down the hall.

"A long time ago," replied Amorette, "My family had to send me here a loooong time ago! But now, the Monsieur trusts me, so he lets me do stuff."

"Are you two… romantically attached or anything?" Belle asked curiously.

"Oh, no! Nothing like that! It's not even like the Monsieur THINKS about girls. I mean, I don't think he does."

"That's interesting," Belle replied. They reached the end of the hallway, and she could see Monsieur D'Arque standing there, stationary, looking her in the eye.

"Well, welcome, Miss Belle," he said in a deep, sarcastic voice. "Amorette, you may clean the rest of the Maison now."

"Thank you, Monsieur," Amorette chirped back, skipping off to another cell.

"Why do you order her around like a servant?" Belle said angrily once Amorette was out of earshot.

"Amorette is not the issue at hand presently, Miss Belle," D'Arque shot back, "Now we're going to have a talk. And I want you to listen closely."