Chapter 4 - The Housekeeper’s Courage
The atmosphere in the estate grew toxic. Eleanor, believing her victory was imminent, stopped pretending. She began treating the staff like indentured servants, barking orders and throwing tantrums.
One evening, I sat in the drawing-room, seemingly asleep in my chair. Eleanor was pacing, arguing on the phone with Julian. Maya entered carrying a tray of hot soup for me.
"You are so slow!" Eleanor snapped at Maya, slapping the tray. The porcelain bowl shattered on the floor, splashing hot broth onto Maya’s hands.
Maya gasped, stepping back, cradling her scalded hand.
"Clean it up, you clumsy idiot," Eleanor hissed, not even pausing her phone call.
I felt a surge of rage so intense I almost stood up right then and there. But I forced myself to remain still.
"Yes, Miss Eleanor," Maya whispered, dropping to her knees to pick up the broken glass.
Later that night, when the house was silent, I walked down to the staff quarters. I knocked softly on Maya's door. When she opened it, she was holding an ice pack to her red, blistered hand. Her eyes went wide with shock.
"M-Mr. Sterling?" she gasped, looking down at my legs, then up at my face. "You're... you're standing."
"Invite me in, Maya," I said softly.
She stepped aside, her mind clearly reeling. I sat in the small chair in her room and told her everything. The fake paralysis, the cameras, the plot between my uncle, my best friend, and my fiancée.
Tears welled in her eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"
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"Because," I said, gently taking her injured hand and inspecting the burn, "you are the only person in this entire house who showed me mercy when I had nothing to offer in return. I need an ally, Maya. I need someone I can trust."
She looked into my eyes, her fear melting into a fierce, unwavering determination. "What do we do?"
