Chapter 12 - He Asked For The Clutch
I carried the last tray out of the dining room and the house went quiet in a way that felt heavier than noise. The guest man had left twenty minutes earlier, his thank-you too quick, his coat half-buttoned at the door. The candles on the dark wood table had burned low. Mr. Balanki had told me to stand by, and so I stood in the hallway edge where the warm light from the dining room met the cooler blue from the stairs.
He was in the living room with Selene. She still had the small light metallic clutch in her left hand, held low against her thigh. She hadn't set it down once all night.
I wasn't supposed to listen. But they didn't close the doors, and Lily was upstairs in our room with the door shut the way he'd ordered, so I stayed with my tray against my chest and I listened.
Mr. Balanki was still in his black double-breasted suit, his white pocket square a little crooked now. His large gold-tone watch caught the lamp light when he moved his left wrist. He didn't sit. He stood a few feet from her with his hands loose at his sides, and his voice was low.
"Tell me when you were last upstairs tonight," he said.
Selene smiled. It was the practiced one she'd used at the table. "I went up before guests sat. To fix my hair. You know that."
"Which room did you go into?" he asked.
"Our room," she said. "Mine. Ours."
He paused. I could hear him breathing. "Was my locked room opened tonight?" he asked. "I need you to think before you answer."
Her fingers tightened on the clutch. I saw the metal edge press into her dress.
"No," she said quickly. "Of course not. I never entered."
He nodded once, like he'd expected that word. "Lily said she saw you come out of it with a card," he said. His tone didn't rise. "I checked. My access card isn't where I left it."
Selene let out a short breath that was almost a laugh. "You're listening to a five-year-old over me? She walked in from the hallway and wanted a seat at the table. She's mixing things up."
"I'm asking you," he said.
"She's five, Adrian," Selene said. She shifted the clutch behind her a little. "She probably saw a credit card. Or a room key. A little silver thing. Everything looks the same to a child. She pointed at the stairs because every door is up the stairs."
I pressed my back against the wall. My brown hair was coming loose from where I'd pulled it back that morning, and my black dress with the white collar felt too tight around my throat. My ruffled apron rustled when I moved.
Mr. Balanki looked at the clutch. He didn't point. He just looked.
"Then clear it up," he said. "Open the clutch."
Silence dropped over the living room. The wall sconces buzzed faintly. From the dining room I could smell burned candle wax and wine.
Selene didn't move. "Excuse me?"
"Open it," he said, calm. "Right here. If it's a credit card she saw, show me. That ends it."
She pulled the purse tighter to her side. Her diamond teardrop earrings swung when she shook her head. "No. You don't get to do this. I'm your fiancee, not staff you can search."
"I'm not searching you," he said. "I'm asking you."
"And I'm saying no," she said. Her voice sharpened. "You seated the maid's daughter at our table in front of a guest. You embarrassed me. Now you want me to dump my purse out to satisfy a story she made up?"
His jaw moved under his short beard. The tattoos on his neck shifted when he swallowed. He kept his hands still.
"Selene," he said. "It's a small thing. If there's nothing in there, there's no fight."
"There's already a fight," she said. "Because you chose them."
She turned toward the hallway and saw me. Her eyes stopped on my apron, on the tray I was still holding like a shield.
"Great," she said. "An audience. Tell her to go."
Mr. Balanki didn't look at me. He kept his eyes on Selene. "Maya stays," he said. "She's part of this house."
That scared me more than if he'd yelled. My hands shook against the tray.
Selene stepped closer to him, clutch pressed hard against her ribs now. "I said I didn't go in. I said no to opening my personal things. If you trusted me, that would be enough."
He was quiet for a long moment. I watched his left hand flex once beside his watch.
"I want to trust what I can see," he said.
She stared at him, then turned and walked fast down the hallway toward the stairs, her black heels loud on the wood. The blue light from the stairwell washed over her black satin gown as she went up. She took the clutch with her. She never loosened her grip.
He didn't follow her. He stood there looking after her, his shoulders tight. Then he glanced toward me, just once, and I saw the controlled anger in it — not wild, held back so tight it trembled.
"Keep Lily in your room tonight," he said quietly. "Don't let her come down."
May you like
"Yes, sir," I whispered.
He walked back toward the dining room alone, and I stood in the divide between warm and blue light, listening to Selene's steps fade upstairs with that purse still in her hand.
