Chapter 13
The last car pulled out of the circle drive at 10:14. I watched its taillights sweep across the hallway wall from the staff quarters doorway.
Sophie was asleep on the narrow bed behind me, her breathing even. I'd put her down in her yellow dress because I didn't want to wake her changing it. Her little white cardigan was folded on the chair. The house was finally quiet except for the dishwasher humming in the kitchen and Richard's shoes on the dark wood.
He didn't knock. He opened the door to our two rooms like it was his.
Vanessa was right behind him, still in the cream wrap dress, her heels in her hand.
"Claire," Richard said. His voice was low, controlled. The gold watch caught the light when he slipped his hands into his pockets. "We need to talk about what you did in there."
I stood between him and the bed where Sophie slept. My hands were wrapped in fresh gauze from the urgent care. The burn cream made them throb.
"I told Mrs. Whitaker what happened," I said. "She asked."
"You corrected me in front of a table of donors," he said. "That was not your place."
Vanessa stepped forward a little. "Richard, keep your voice down."
He glanced at her, then back at me. "You are staff. You live in staff housing. You work at my discretion. If you can't respect the household, I can terminate your position. And housing goes with the position."
The words landed exactly how he meant them to. I felt them in my stomach.
I didn't answer right away. I looked at the small kitchenette, the hot plate, the cracked tile by the sink where Sophie liked to stand on tiptoe to wash her hands. The closet where her dresses hung. The window that looked out onto the service parking lot.
"Where would we go?" I asked. My voice was quiet.
"That's not my concern," he said. "There are other families who would value this opportunity."
Vanessa inhaled sharply. "Stop it. You're not putting a three-year-old on the street because you're embarrassed."
"It's business, Vanessa."
"It's Sophie," she said.
He turned his head toward her slowly. "Don't undermine me in front of staff."
I held the edge of the dresser to keep my hands still. "How long would we have?" I asked.
He looked back at me. "The handbook says two weeks after termination. I'd be generous and give you until the end of the month. That's more than fair."
The end of the month was eleven days away.
After he left, Vanessa stayed. She closed the door softly and sat on the edge of the dresser because there was nowhere else to sit.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "He does this when he feels cornered. He thinks if he controls the story, he controls the fallout."
I nodded. I couldn't speak for a second. The gauze itched.
She watched me. "Are you okay to be here tonight?"
I didn't know how to answer that. Sophie made a small sound in her sleep and rolled over.
When Vanessa finally left, she squeezed my arm carefully, avoiding the bandages. "Lock this," she said about the door. "I'll be in the main house if you need me."
I locked it after she was gone. Then I sat on the floor with my back against the bed and pulled the metal box from under it where I kept our important papers.
Inside was a bank envelope, Sophie's birth certificate, my urgent care discharge papers, the photos of the supply closet and the bottle on my phone. And a little blue savings book from the county credit union.
I opened it with my thumbs, awkward with the gauze.
$1,847.22.
That was everything. Last time I'd checked it had been a little over two thousand, but the urgent care co-pay and the cream and the gauze had come out of it. Rent for the cheapest one-bedroom I'd seen listed near Sophie's preschool was $1,100 before utilities. Plus deposit. Plus first and last.
I did the math twice, though I already knew. Without this job, without this housing, I couldn't make it a month on my own. Not without another job immediately. And I hadn't worked anywhere else in almost four years.
I put my head back against the mattress and listened to Sophie breathe. The hallway outside was dark now, the wall sconces off for the night. The laundry door at the end of the hall was closed. I could picture the brass plaque even in the dark.
A soft knock came twenty minutes later. Three taps.
I opened the door to find Vanessa again, now in sweatpants and a zip-up, her hair down. She held two mugs.
"Decaf," she said. "For both of us. Can I come in for a minute?"
I let her in. She set the mugs on the dresser and didn't comment on the savings book still open on the floor.
She sat cross-legged on the rug this time. "I talked to him," she said quietly. "He's not backing down tonight. He thinks if he fires you now, it looks like the burn was your fault for not following procedures. That you were careless."
"He took the gloves out," I said. "He told Marco the new stuff was safe without them."
"I know," she said. "I believe you."
She wrapped her hands around her mug. "Claire, I have a condo by the highway. Near the Target. It's one bedroom but the couch pulls out. It's been sitting empty since I moved back here to help him with the estate. If you need it, even for a few weeks, you can use it."
I stared at her. "You've been helping him."
"And I'm done covering for him," she said. Her voice was steady but tired. "We split on this. I told him tonight I won't be part of pushing you out. He didn't like that either. We're... not aligned anymore. On how this house runs. On how he treats people who work here."
I felt my eyes sting, but I didn't cry. "I can't pay you."
"You don't have to right now," she said. "Just think about it. Don't say yes tonight. But know it's there. You wouldn't be on the street."
Sophie shifted in the bed and murmured something I couldn't make out. Vanessa smiled a little.
"You haven't filed anything yet, have you?" she asked.
"No."
"Once you do, he can't just lock the door on you," she said. "Retaliation. That's what the inspector would call it."
I looked down at my bandaged hands around the warm mug. The offer sat in the room with us, real and solid, but so did the math in the blue book. A couch to sleep on wasn't income. It wasn't insurance. It wasn't a plan for Sophie next month or the month after.
"I understand," I said finally.
May you like
Vanessa nodded. She finished her tea and stood. At the door she turned. "You were brave tonight," she said. "In front of all those people."
After she left, I put the savings book back in the box and slid it under the bed. I checked the lock again. I stood in the small dark hallway between our rooms and the main house's empty, polished hall and understood completely what reporting him would cost, and what staying quiet would cost.
