Chapter 19

NINETEEN

Waking up in a warm,safe, and comfortable bed is something I don't think I'll ever get used to in this lifetime. Every single ‘bed' I've slept in has been in either a closet, a bench, on the floor, under a bridge, or a lucky night or two in a shitty motel where the walls are paper-thin and a prostitute is moaning next door or gunshots are echoing in the sky while bed bugs nip at my flesh.

"Good morning, darling Demi." A soft voice had me turn my head in the direction of the window where sunlight was pouring in.

Mrs. Ivory was sitting in the chair by my bed, filing her nails. The light screeching of the file pad going back and forth in harmony against her well-manicured nails filled the room. Had she been watching me sleep?

I cleared my voice that was hoarse with sleep and dryness. "Hi."

"I hope you're feeling better because today is your first day of work," she chirped and stood quickly.

My neck was stiff, my stomach was rumbling, and the last thing I wanted to do was have to work today, but that's why I was here. I wasn't here because some rich people found a poor girl they wanted to help rehabilitate and set free like some sort of wounded butterfly. No, I was here because I needed a roof over my head and money to save in hopes that, eventually, I'd have a sliver of a future.

"Yes, ma'am." I nodded and licked my lips.

"Don't do that," Mrs. Ivory hissed at me, and the sudden shift in her voice startled me.

"I'm sorry?" Don't do what?

"He'd be repulsed if you do that. Use the lip balm in your room, for goodness sake, Demi." She wiggled her finger at me with her eyes fastened onto my lips. Standing slowly, she moved toward me and leaned over. Squinting, she brushed her fingers across my lips as I froze and held my breath.

"Ouch!" I cried out as she peeled off the loose, dead skin from my lips.

"Repulsive." Mrs. Ivory clicked her tongue and shook her head before she turned away and immediately left the room.

As soon as the door shut behind her, I touched my lips and lifted my finger.

"Fuck." The sight of blood on my finger reminded me of the previous night. Part of me questioned if everything that happened with Misha was a figment of my imagination? Wouldn't Mrs. Ivory have mentioned it? A girl died. They wouldn't just brush it off. Right?

"Miss Rao, day one on the job and already creating a mess?" Bradley appeared, and I knew these noiseless shoes and doors were going to give me an early heart attack.

"Bradley, I… I swear, I didn't touch her. She was…" The realization of the magnitude of what happened last night twisted my stomach as acid rose into my throat.

"She was a beautiful light. Why, Demi?" Bradley glanced around the room and at the corners of the ceiling.

"I didn't kill her," I jeered. "If I killed her and they really believed that, then why haven't they called the police? Why is everyone acting so fucking nonchalant?"

"Demi." Bradley sighed and paused. "Demi, you killed Misha. The end. This isn't some extended novel where you get to dig into the beginning, middle, and end. This isn't a story you need to figure out. This is a simple one-line sentence you will accept as your truth. If you want to live here, work here… you will accept anything they tell you as your truth. Even if they tell you a lie, you will make it your truth. It's the only way you will…" Bradley brushed his hand across his tired scowl.

"It's the only way I will, what?" I sat up and ran my hands through my unruly hair.

"Survive."

The one word shook my entire being. My heart raced while my palms grew moist. "I don't want this job anymore. I think this has been… a mistake on my end." My feet hit the cold floor and I walked around Bradley.

The slapping of my feet against the floor seemed even louder with the impeding silence that radiated all around me.

As soon as my hand met the cold metal doorknob, another grabbed my shoulder and jerked me backward.

"Are you reckless? You can't just leave the Ivory House. You signed the contract. You have to work here for the next four years. Did you not read the damn contract, Demi?" His face flushed as his fingers gripped into my skin harder.

"Foolish Conrad is too busy flirting, and now… you're the one who will pay the price." Bradley quivered with anger. His eyes seemed glossier, his jaw was clenched, and out of nowhere, he snapped out of the trance-like state and let go of me. "I mean, you signed a contract with your new employer, Miss Rao. Please be respectful of it and the family. This is a house many would kill to stay in."

Blinking, I felt like I was in some kind of twisted dream. Misha was murdered in the peony garden last night—the girl who held the same job as me up until last night. What was in that contract that I had not seen?

Was the only way out of this job… death?