It feels like that fucking hallway consumes my entire existence as I spend my days cleaning up Rafe’s temper tantrums.
And every day, I hate him a little bit more for it.
But I find myself falling into the routine. Hallway. Breakfast. Hallway again. Sometimes lunch, if it’s a good day. If it’s not,I work until dinner trying to clear the mess. No matter what, I make sure the hallway is cleared at the end of each day, not a speck of mess to be seen. And I never, ever say a word.
Ellen starts slipping me freshly baked bread with my broth at dinner, her mouth turned down in what I think might be a speck of pity.
I’m not sure what I’m proving. Maybe something to Rafe, that he can’t wear me down. Or maybe something to myself, that I refuse to admit as I scrape and scrub until my nails are little more than stubs.
I can’t do most of the chores on the damn list Silas came up with. There just aren’t enough hours in the day. So Ellen ropes in Clara.
I fucking hate Clara.
Clara, with her shiny, clean blonde hair and perfect blue eyes. She reminds me of Ella, right down to her catty butoh-I’m-just-so-sweet-and-innocentnature.
“Oh!” she exclaims when I first meet her.
I stumble into the kitchen, covered head to toe in white fucking flour, making more mess as I try and brush myself off. She smirks at me where she leans against the counter, effortlessly elegant even in her crisp white blouse and indecently short black skirt.
“Soyou’rethe ugly stepsister? I thought that was just something they made up!”
Bitch.
Blandly, I look her up and down. “That’s a lovely belt. Where did you get it?”
She blinks at me, and I smile sweetly. “Oh, I’m so sorry! Is that supposed to be your skirt? They must not pay you enough to get the whole thing.”
Ellen coughs as the smug smile wipes away from Carla’s face. “Now, then. Carla, you need to do the bathrooms today.”
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to do the bathrooms anymore?” If it were possible, I’d be dead from the daggers flashing in Carla’s eyes. “Isn’t that whatshe’shere for?”
Ellen raises her eyebrows. “You’ll do the work you’re assigned. Get going.”
I never knew that hate at first sight was a thing until now. But I manage to avoid Carla for the most part, apart from when she walks through the mess created by Rafe. She always makes sure to really rub her feet into the floor, or to kick the mess up the wall.
Still, it’s a routine. And I find myself clinging to it, clinging to the certainty of what each day will bring.
Kit appears at the kitchen doorway a few days into my Rafe-imposed punishment as I’m finishing up my dinner. My eyes are on the verge of closing by themselves, but I straighten. His eyes drop down to my wrists. “They look better.”
Pushing away my empty bowl, I nod. The bruising is healing, still there but lighter than it was. “Can I get you something?”
He looks around the kitchen, his violet eyes dropping to the floor in front of the hearth. “Ah – no. I actually brought you something.”
He lifts the bag at his side awkwardly. “It took a few days to arrive.”
I blink as he steps forward, placing the bag in front of me. “For me?”
Kit rubs at his neck. “You don’t… I know you don’t have anything. It’s not much, but you can’t go on without any clothes. Or… other things.”
There’s a hint of color in his cheeks as I look up at him for a long moment. “Thank you.”
He nods in response. And then he’s gone.
And I’m left with three new sets of clothes. Some basic underwear. A toothbrush. Shampoo. Sanitary products.
A hairbrush. Andconditioner.
I nearly cry again when Ellen quietly points me towards a spare bathroom. “For you to use during your… stay.”
