Today was my first day at Mr. Romano’s residence, and from the moment I opened my eyes that morning, a tight, nervous feeling sat in my chest. Not the sharp kind that made you panic—more like the slow, buzzing kind you get before a big exam. I kept telling myself I’d be fine, that it was just a job, that I’d handled worse situations. But still, my fingers wouldn’t stop fidgeting with the zipper of my bag.
I had been hired by his assistant—Mrs. Alder—to work as a maid. She sounded strict on the phone, but not unkind. She said I’d be paid well, that the work wasn’t hard if I listened and kept things tidy, and that Mr. Romano liked his home quiet and orderly. The pay really was attractive, almost suspiciously so, but I couldn’t afford to question it. I needed the money. Badly.
The strange p
