Chapter 3
“Every day?”
“Most days.”
She thought about that.
“That’s boring.”
Anna made a small sound that might have been horror.
“Lily.”
“What?”
I nearly smiled.
“She has a point.”
Anna relaxed by half an inch.
I placed the denied request on the table.
“I should have seen this.”
Her expression became guarded.
“I didn’t expect you to.”
“You submitted it to my household.”
“I submitted it to Evelyn.”
“Which should have meant it reached me.”
Anna glanced at Lily.
I understood.
Not here.
“Lily,” I said, “would you like to show Tomas how pancakes are supposed to look?”
Her eyes widened.
“Can I?”
“If your mother says yes.”
Anna looked at me, then toward the kitchen.
“Stay with Tomas.”
“I will.”
“And no climbing.”
“I know.”
“And—”
“Mama.”
Anna stopped.
Lily slid down carefully and walked away, her stuffed rabbit tucked under one arm.
When she was gone, Anna spoke quietly.
“I don’t want trouble.”
“Neither do I.”
“That usually means something different when rich people say it.”
That surprised me enough to make me laugh once.
A short sound.
She looked embarrassed.
“You’re allowed to say what you think.”
“I’m not sure anyone is.”
“In this house?”
She looked toward the doorway.
That answer was enough.
“Tell me.”
Anna folded her hands.
“I like this job.”
“How long have you worked here?”
“Almost two years.”
“And Lily?”
“She stays with my sister most days. But my sister started working mornings in April, so Lily comes here three days a week until preschool starts.”
“Why didn’t I know?”
“You aren’t usually in the staff areas.”
Another fact.
Another mistake.
Anna continued.
“I asked about another entrance. Evelyn said the rules were the rules.”
“And the threshold?”
“I thought it would be easy to fix.”
“It is.”
“I wasn’t asking you personally.”
“Why not?”
Her answer took longer.
“Because people who work in houses like this learn the difference between being noticed and being a problem.”
I said nothing.
Anna looked down.
“I didn’t want to become a problem.”
“Has Evelyn treated you badly?”
“No.”
That answer came quickly.
I studied her.
“Then what?”
“She’s very exact.”
“Meaning?”
Anna searched for the least dangerous words.
“She likes everything where it belongs.”
That sentence told me more than an accusation would have.
People where they belonged.
Children where they belonged.
Requests where they belonged.
A household manager who had mistaken order for care.
“Did anyone ever tell you the threshold had been repaired?”
Anna looked puzzled.
“No.”
“Did anyone ask you whether it still caused problems?”
“No.”
“How many times has Lily scratched it?”
She glanced toward the door.
“I don’t know.”
“Five before today.”
Anna’s face changed.
“You counted?”
“Yes.”
“She doesn’t always tell me.”
That sentence hurt more than I expected.
Not because something terrible had happened.
Nothing terrible had.
A scraped brace. A sore knee. A difficult doorway.
Small things.
But a child had decided that a small difficulty was something she should hide.
I folded the request.
“The entrance will be fixed.”
Anna looked at me quickly.
“You don’t have to—”
“I do.”
“I can pay part of it.”
“No.”
Her expression hardened slightly.
“I don’t want charity.”
“It isn’t charity. It’s my doorway.”
That stopped her.
I continued.
“If a door in my house cannot be used safely by someone who needs to use it, that is a property problem.”
Anna studied me.
“Evelyn said it was a personal circumstance.”
“I disagree.”
For the first time, something eased in her face.
“Thank you.”
I nodded.
Then I asked the question that had been waiting.
“Do you know Daniel Russo?”
“No.”
“Has anyone asked you to sign maintenance paperwork?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Once.”
I sat straighter.
“Who?”
“A man from the office.”
“Which office?”
“I don’t know.”
“When?”
“June, maybe.”
“What did he ask you to sign?”
“He said work had been completed near the staff entrance.”
“What work?”
“I asked that.”
“And?”
“He said polishing.”
I looked toward the marble threshold beyond two rooms and a corridor.
“Was anything polished?”
“Not that I noticed.”
“Did you sign?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
She gave me a simple look.
“Because nothing had been done.”
“What did he say?”
“He said he would check.”
“Describe him.”
“Mid-thirties. Brown hair. Glasses. Always carrying one of those leather computer bags.”
That described thousands of people.
“Name?”
“I’m not sure.”
She frowned.
“He said it once.”
I waited.
“Peter?”
I knew only one Peter connected to household accounting.
Peter Vale.
Daniel’s assistant.
I stood.
Anna looked worried.
“Did I cause something?”
“No.”
“You got that face.”
“What face?”
“The one everyone had in the kitchen.”
“I have a face?”
“Apparently.”
Again, that almost made me smile.
“You did exactly what you should have done. You refused to sign something that wasn’t true.”
She nodded slowly.
I returned upstairs.
Norah had changed most of the passwords.
Evelyn sat at the administration desk, reviewing old files.
“Where is Peter Vale?” I asked.
Norah looked up.
“Finance office, I think.”
Evelyn stopped turning a page.
“Why?”
“Anna says he asked her to verify work that never happened.”
Evelyn went very still.
“When?”
“June.”
She opened a drawer and began searching.
May you like
“What are you looking for?”
“Service confirmations.”
