Chapter 4
Far beneath the polished marble floors of the grand estate, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the glittering opulence upstairs. In the dimly lit servants' quarters, the air smelled of damp stone, bleached linen, and the faint, comforting aroma of chamomile tea. The cook had set up a small electric kettle in the corner of the pantry, where Mary, the young maid who had rescued Lily from the dining room, was currently trying to calm the trembling child.
Lily sat wrapped in a thick wool blanket, holding a warm mug of milk between both hands. Her wet hair had been roughly towel-dried, sticking out in unruly golden-brown tufts around her pale face. Her eyes, wide and luminous, darted toward every shadow cast by the flickering fluorescent bulb.
“Is she coming down here, Mary?” Lily whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the old refrigerator.
“No, sweetheart, she’s not,” Mary reassured her, gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from the girl’s forehead. Mary’s heart ached for the child. Having worked in the house for over five years, she had witnessed the slow, agonizing erosion of warmth ever since Clara had crossed the threshold following Sarah’s mysterious disappearance. “You’re safe here with me. Drink your milk and try to get some rest.”
“She wants me to forget my real mom,” Lily said, a fresh tear escaping her eye and tracking down her cheek. “She told me that if I say the word, the bad things will happen again. Mary... what happened to my mother? Uncle Julian says she went away on a long trip, but I heard the men in the study talking. They said she’s never coming back because she found out a secret.”
Mary froze, her hand hovering over Lily’s shoulder. The unspoken rule of the household was absolute: never speak of Sarah, never question the official narrative, and above all, never let Julian or Clara know that you heard anything. Yet, the walls of the mansion were thin, and secrets leaked out like poison through old pipes.
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“Your mother was a very brave woman, Lily,” Mary chose her words carefully, leaning in close so her voice wouldn’t carry up the ventilation shaft. “She loved you more than anything in this world. But this house... it has a way of hiding things that people aren’t ready to face. You must be very careful what you say to Clara, and especially to your father. They are playing a dangerous game, and you are the prize they are fighting over.”
Before Lily could ask another question, a heavy knock echoed against the exterior heavy oak door that led to the garden path. Both froze. Visitors at this hour were rare, and service deliveries never came through the lower garden entrance unless they carried an urgent message that bypassed the front gates.
