Hoping to steel her nerves, Belle took a steaming gulp of coffee from her Styrofoam cup. It did not help. The bitter liquid scalded her mouth and made her throat drier. An odd assortment of women filled in the circle of folding chairs behind her. Although it was easier to think of the other group members as virtual strangers, Belle had to admit she had much in common with them. Over the archway beside her hung a crisp banner proudly proclaiming "Disney Damsels".
"Oh, Belle, dear," crooned Cinderella, "are you almost ready? You are the star of our show this evening "
Belle turned around, startled at the sound of her name, and focused on Cinderella. As the President of the support group, she sat primly in her seat, a complex tiara of silver and diamonds glittering atop her honey curls. Resisting the urge to backhand her and knock the smug look from her face, Belle sat down in one of the empty chairs.