Chapter 2
The trapdoor was open and the cold air from underneath hit my face. I had my hands on the edge of the floor and I couldn't get my legs to work. The wood was smooth under my palms and I could feel dust in the seams.
Raffaele was standing at the edge looking down at me and he hadn't moved yet. He still had my veil in his left hand, the pearl edge caught around his knuckles. The light from the tall windows cut across the polished floor and made the dust show in the air between us. Bianca hadn't moved either. She was by the sheer curtains with her hands clasped in front of her beige dress, just watching.
My name is Evelyn and I had been under that floor for five years.
My legs wouldn't push. I tried to lift myself and my knees buckled against the inside wall of the chamber. The cardigan I was wearing was damp and it smelled like concrete. My hair had come loose and I could hear my own breathing too loud. Raffaele knelt down then, finally, and I saw his silver watch catch the light.
He didn't say anything at first. He set the veil down just enough to get both hands under my arms. The housemaid was suddenly there beside him, her apron brushing the floor. She had one hand on the small boy's shoulder and then she let go of him to reach for me.
"Easy," she said. She slipped her hands under my elbows from the other side.
They lifted. My feet dragged against the inside of the chamber and then against the floor panel. My legs were thin and they shook and didn't want to hold weight. There were bruises down my calves I hadn't looked at in a long time and the pleated skirt was stained at the hem. The cardigan had a tear at the cuff. I made a sound without meaning to when my weight came onto my knees on the wood outside.
The boy was standing two feet away holding onto the housemaid's skirt with both hands. He didn't make a sound. He just stared at my face.
They got me to the edge, sitting with my back against the raised lip of the trapdoor, my legs out in front of me on the floor. The vacuum cleaner was still there on the left where Raffaele had left it, its cord trailing toward the doorway. I was breathing hard and my hands were on the wood to keep myself upright. Raffaele's hands stayed near my shoulders like he wasn't sure if he should touch me again.
Bianca spoke from the window.
"Evelyn ran away. You know that," she said, and her voice was even, like she was correcting a detail at a dinner party. "She left and then she came back to hide. That's what happened."
I didn't answer right away. I was trying to get air.
Raffaele looked down at the veil tangled around his wrist. He picked it up again with a slow movement and held the pearl headpiece out so we could all see it. His hand was shaking a little.
"This was Evelyn's," he said, quiet.
It wasn't loud. He didn't look at his mother when he said it. He looked at the veil, at the floor seam where it had been caught, at my legs.
Bianca took a small step closer but she stayed by the light. "That veil has been in the suite for years," she said. "Anyone could have put it there."
The housemaid didn't look at her. She knelt beside me and adjusted her position so my shoulder could lean against her a little. She smelled like laundry soap. The boy moved with her, still holding her skirt, and he crouched down too but not close enough to touch me. His sneakers were white and black against the wood.
I pressed my palm flat to the floor and felt the warmth of the sun coming through the curtains.
"I never left this house," I said.
My voice was hoarse and it cracked on the last word.
Raffaele stared at me then, really looked at my face for the first time since he'd opened the floor. His beard had grown in differently than I remembered and his neck tattoos went right up under his collar. His eyes went from my hair to my cardigan to my hands. He let go of the veil with one hand and then caught it again like he didn't want to drop it.
Bianca's hands tightened. "Raffaele, don't do this in front of the child," she said.
May you like
Nobody moved to close the trapdoor. The dark square stayed open behind me and cold air kept coming up from it. I could see the top rung of the small ladder down there and a folded blanket I had kept neat in the corner. I didn't look back at it.
The housemaid kept her arm braced around me and the boy's fingers were still twisted in her apron. Raffaele sat back on his heels on the wood floor holding the veil in both hands now, close to his chest, and Bianca remained alone by the window with the light behind her, isolated by three feet of polished floor no one crossed.
