Chapter 12
The service quarters were at the back of the house down a short hallway past the laundry. My room was small, just a bed, a dresser, and a sink under a window that looked out at the side yard. The light in there was different than the hallway, plain and white and buzzing a little. I could still hear the house beyond the door, quiet now, but not empty.
I closed the door behind me and didn't lock it. I just stood there for a second with my hands on the dresser. My uniform felt tight around my shoulders. I hadn't realized I'd been holding them so high.
I went to the sink and turned on the water. It ran cold at first. I let it run while I looked at myself in the small mirror above it. My bun had come loose. Strands had fallen around my neck. I pulled the band out and my hair fell down. I took a breath that I hadn't been able to take out in the hall.
Then I looked down at my arm. I turned my left forearm over under the light. The marks were faint and pinkish-red, thin lines where the edge had caught. They weren't deep. They didn't need a bandage. In the hallway with everyone watching, they'd looked like evidence. In here alone, they just looked like what they were, something that had happened and hadn't been accounted for. I ran cool water over them. It stung a little. I patted my arm dry with a hand towel and just stared at it, turning it slightly. I wasn't trying to hide it anymore. I wanted to see it clearly so I would remember exactly what it looked like.
There was a soft knock at the door, two taps. I knew it was him before he spoke.
"It's me," he said through the door. "Can I check in for a minute?"
"Yes," I said. I pulled my sleeve back down but not all the way.
He opened the door just enough to step inside and then closed it behind him. He still had his suit jacket on but he'd loosened his tie. He didn't come close right away. He stayed near the door and looked at me.
"You left before I could say," he said. "I wanted to make sure you were okay down here."
I nodded. "I'm okay. I'm just trying to get my hands to stop shaking."
He glanced at the sink, at the towel, at my arm. He didn't ask to see it again. He just waited.
"She's in her suite," he said quietly. "She was told to stay there for the night. My mom and I are talking in the morning. I told the house manager not to send anyone up to that floor without me knowing."
I swallowed. "So I don't have to go back up tonight."
"No," he said. "You don't. Not alone. Not at all until we sort this. I told you I wouldn't leave you alone with her and I meant it."
That was the thing that had kept me standing in the hallway, him staying that close beside me. Now in the small room, that promise felt more concrete. He wasn't performing for the blonde or for his mother. He was just standing in my doorway saying it again when no one else could hear.
I sat down on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped. He stayed standing, his hands at his sides.
"I thought about packing," I said. I hadn't planned to say it out loud. "When I came down here, I looked at my bag in the closet. I thought it would be easier to just leave quiet and not make this bigger."
He frowned a little, just a small crease between his eyebrows. "You could," he said. "But you shouldn't have to."
"I know," I said. "And if I did, it would just happen again. To someone else, maybe. Or she'd say I made it up after I left."
He nodded once. "That's why the cabinet matters. And the key."
I looked up at him. "If I stay, I need it to be different on paper. Not just you telling me you'll be there. I need a real rule, written down, that the strap and anything like it stays locked and only you or your mom has the key. And that I don't take orders from her directly anymore. That I report to you or the house manager."
I said it slowly, and my voice didn't shake the way I thought it would. It was the first time since the wine glass that I'd asked for something instead of just answering.
He listened without interrupting. When I finished, he let a second pass before he answered.
"I'll advocate for that," he said. "Tomorrow morning in the hallway, when we're all there, I'll put that on the table. Formal protection. House policy, not a favor. You shouldn't have to rely on me being in the room."
"Will your mom agree?" I asked.
"I think she will when she sees why it matters," he said. "But even if she needs time, I won't let you be put back in that position while we figure it out."
I felt some of the tightness in my chest loosen, just a little. I wasn't fixed, but I had a condition now, a line I wouldn't cross.
"Okay," I said. "Then I'll stay. Conditionally. But I won't pretend it didn't happen."
He nodded, and for the first time that night his shoulders dropped a fraction too. "I wouldn't ask you to. Get some rest. Leave your door unlocked if you want. I'll be down the hall."
He stepped back and opened the door. The light from the hallway cut across the floor of my room. He paused there.
May you like
"Thank you for telling me the truth about the glass," he said.
I didn't answer right away. I just held his gaze for a moment and then nodded. He closed the door gently behind him, and I was alone again with the white buzzing light and the marks on my arm that I no longer felt I had to hide.
