Maya rolled on the hard floor. It was hard to determine if the hard floor or her anxiety made it difficult for her to sleep. There was no way she could rest in this state.

She couldn’t lie still, couldn’t roll about, every part hurt. She missed the bed in Father’s house. Still, Maya wasn’t sure she would easily go back there.

It was past noon, and no one had bothered her since she left the dining room. She sat upright, giving up her attempt to sleep.

Alaina said she was going to the orphanage. Maya didn’t know when she would leave or return. It was odd that she didn’t give her any task before leaving.

Maya palmed her face. It was almost like she was expecting something to happen, but how would she prepare for it without expectation? She sighed loudly, looking around her room.

There was nothing to do in here. The room was bare, the wardrobe and drawers were empty. She didn’t even have curtains. She wanted nothing more than to walk around and see the town. How much had it changed since the last time she was here? Would she even remember? She was excited to find out.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t dare leave the building. Even going to the kitchen was enough to anger Keenan.

She looked down at her worn-out dress as she sat on her makeshift bed. This was the last dress she had without any holes. She would have to fix the other three today, and just to be safe, she would wash the one she wore yesterday if she couldn’t find stitching materials.

Maya bent her knees and rested her head on them. What was she going to do? She didn’t want to do anything to anger him. Things were just as bad as ever; she hadn’t made a single step closer.

She adjusted her shoulder. It still hurt, but the pain was fading. He didn’t touch her without inflicting pain. Maya winced. She couldn’t complain; the same could be said about her.

She stared at the tips of her right fingers. The same ones she had used to put the wolfsbane over his chest. She grabbed her head as she recalled his screams of pain and terror.

She could never make up for that. Not ever.

Maya pushed herself to her feet. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to remember. Alaina was right; she deserved much worse.

Maya opened the door and peeked into the hallway. It was bright. The sun was high in the sky. Maya welcomed the light. She looked around to make sure she wouldn’t run into anyone.

The mansion had fewer people living in it than she thought. Only about two or three servants seemed to have their own rooms in the house. The rest came and went. No one except Bess spoke directly to her, and they all pretended not to see her.

Maya carefully stepped out of her room and shut the door behind her. She walked, trying not to look around too much. She didn’t want to seem suspicious, and at the same time, she didn’t want to be caught off guard.

The house was quiet as she made her way to the first floor. She didn’t run into anyone on her way. She had been hoping she would run into a servant. As long as they were not Bess, Maya was sure she could ask them for a needle and some thread.

The only place she knew she was likely to run into servants was the kitchen. Agnes had chased her off, but she didn’t feel as though she was unwelcome there, and she needed to get to fixing now that Alaina wasn’t breathing down her neck.

She could smell something delicious seeping down the kitchen hallway. Maya sniffed the air. It was apple pie. Her mouth watered slightly. It was lunchtime, but Maya hadn’t been expecting food. She was conscious of that while eating breakfast. For lunch the day before, she had only gotten a measly slice of apple pie.

Maya pushed the thoughts of food behind her head. Since it was lunchtime, Keenan was most likely in the dining room. He didn’t mention that she could join for lunch—just breakfast and dinner.

That was good enough for her. Being in his presence multiple times a day was not good for her heart. Especially when he looked like he couldn’t wait to wring her neck.

Maya instinctively touched her neck. She sighed and forged on, reaching the door of the kitchen. Just as she reached for it, it flew open, and a maid holding a tray yelped, drawing the attention of everyone in the kitchen.

"Sorry," Maya immediately apologized. Thankfully, the maid hadn’t been frightened enough to spill the contents in her hands.

"What are you doing here?" Agnes coldly asked as the maid rushed off leaving Maya standing awkwardly by the door.

"I-I," Maya felt all her courage fade. Her chest tightened, and she could feel every breath struggle to reach her lungs.

"Speak up! You’re interrupting."

"I-I was hoping for some needle and thread, for mending. I need to—"

Agnes scoffed and turned away from her. "Palmer, get her what she needs."

"Yes, ma’am," Palmer replied, but from the corner where she stood, Maya could not see her.

"Thank y—" Maya started to say.

"You, out of my kitchen. She knows your room. She will bring it to you."

Maya wanted to argue. She didn’t trust that Palmer would do as instructed. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Agnes, but none of the maids here liked her. They always reacted viscerally to her presence.

But she was too scared of Agnes to argue, so she sealed her lips and slowly turned away, walking back the way she had come.

Maya’s steps were slow and dejected. She kept looking back as she walked away from the kitchen. If Palmer really wanted to bring the items to her, she should be exiting the kitchen already.

Maya glanced behind her one more time as she walked. Suddenly, she stopped as something struck her in the chest.

"Ow!" A soft voice said.