Chapter 7: The Quiet Question After Breakfast
The dining room looked different in the morning light. The candles were out and the plates were gone, but my chair was still there. The one Mr. Balanki had pulled out for me. It was pushed in at the table like it belonged now, with the cream cushion dented where I'd sat. I kept looking at it while I stood by the buffet.
Mom had been sent to the laundry. Mr. Balanki had asked her quiet, right after breakfast, if she would go sort the linens downstairs, and she had looked at me before she left. She didn't say anything, but her eyes did. Be good. Be invisible. I knew that look.
Mr. Balanki didn't sit at the head of the table like he had the night before. He walked around it and stopped near my chair and rested his hand on the back of it. The dark wood was shiny where his tattooed hand touched it. He was still in a black shirt but his suit jacket was off, sleeves pushed up a little, and I could see the watch on his wrist catch the light from the window.
He didn't tell me to sit. He knelt down.
It surprised me how slow he did it, one knee to the rug, so his face was level with mine. He breathed in and out and I could hear it. He wasn't smiling big, just looking at me steady. His eyes moved a little like he was making sure I was comfortable before he said anything.
"Lily," he said, his voice low and even. "Can I ask you something about last night? Just you and me."
I nodded but my throat felt tight. I remembered Mom in our room that morning, her hands on my shoulders while she zipped my dress. "If he asks, you tell the truth, baby. But don't make up stories to be helpful, okay? Just what you saw." She had been whispering, and I knew she was scared. She'd made me promise not to go looking for trouble.
"What did you see in the hallway?" he asked. He didn't say her name. He didn't say locked room or card or anything that would tell me what answer he wanted. "Take your time. What did your eyes see?"
I looked down at my socks on the rug. The warm light from the sconces made a soft circle on the floor and the blue from the hallway was gone because it was daytime. I wanted to answer right because I didn't want Mom to lose our room. I could hear the laundry humming faintly through the floor.
I picked at the lace on my dress.
"I was coming back from the kitchen," I said finally. My voice was small. "I had to go pee and Mom said not to go upstairs but the downstairs bathroom was locked."
He just nodded once, slow, letting me keep going.
"She came out of your room. The one that's always locked," I said. I glanced up at him. His face didn't change. "She had something in her hand. Like a card. Cream colored, kind of thick. She was holding it with both hands at first, then she put it in her clutch."
The words came out faster once I started, like they'd been sitting behind my teeth. "The edge was sticking out before she zipped it. I saw it."
He didn't jump in. He let the pause sit there. I could see his chest rise and fall.
"Did you see where she got it from?" he asked, still quiet.
"From inside," I said. "The door was open just a little and she stepped out and closed it quick. She looked around."
He nodded again. I waited for him to tell me I was wrong or that I shouldn't have been looking, but he didn't.
"Thank you for telling me," he said. He said it like he meant it, no big smile, just clear. "You did right telling me what you saw. That's exactly what you should do."
My eyes got hot and I tried not to blink too much.
"This stays between you and me until we fix it, okay?" he said. "You don't need to worry about what happens next. That's my job."
I swallowed. "Will Mom get in trouble because I said it?"
That was the part I was most scared about. Mom had said Selene could make us leave if we caused a problem, that this house wasn't ours and jobs like hers didn't come easy.
Mr. Balanki shook his head, just a little.
"No," he said. "You will not get in trouble for telling the truth. And your mom will not lose your home for this. I promise you that. You both are safe here. Do you understand?"
I nodded. He held my gaze a second longer to make sure I believed him, and I did. His hand was still on the chair behind me, not touching me, just steady there.
May you like
"Good girl," he said softly.
He stood up slowly, his knee cracking a little, and he pulled the chair out just an inch, like he was checking it was still mine, then pushed it back in. He didn't ask me anything else. He just walked with me back toward the kitchen, his hand hovering near my shoulder but not pushing, and I felt lighter and heavier at the same time, because now he knew what I knew.
