Chapter 2 - The Only Person Who Didn't Tiptoe
Weeks bled into one another, and somehow, Emma quietly became the only human being inside the sprawling estate who didn't tiptoe around my explosive fury. I fired specialized nurses, screamed obscenities at terrified cooks, and terrorized every single staff member who crossed my path, but Emma simply cleaned around my violent outbursts as if my rage were nothing more than another stubborn stain on the hardwood floor. Then, one Tuesday around two in the morning, a blinding wave of phantom pain ripped through my legs so violently that cold sweat poured down my face, soaking my shirt. Emma happened to be dusting the library shelves nearby and found me doubled over in my wheelchair, gripping my useless thighs as I gasped for air. “Get out,” I hissed, my voice trembling with humiliation. “Where are your pills?” she asked calmly, stepping closer. “I said leave.” “Kitchen or bathroom?” The question was so irritatingly calm, so utterly devoid of fear, that I finally snapped under the pressure. “Kitchen! Left of the sink!” I roared. She disappeared for thirty seconds and returned with one prescribed pain pill and a glass of cool water. When I aggressively demanded two because the pain was unbearable, she glanced down at the prescription bottle label, shook her head, and flatly refused. “It says one every six hours. You haven’t eaten a single thing today, have you?” I stared at her cracked, chemical-burned hands in stunned disbelief. No one in Chicago had dared deny me anything in over a decade, yet this exhausted, debt-ridden maid stood right in front of me, deciding exactly how much medication I was allowed to consume. After that strange night, I started noticing things about her I hadn't wanted to notice—the way she occasionally stumbled from sheer exhaustion, how her hands shook while carrying heavy loads of laundry, and how she leaned against marble walls for support when she thought nobody was watching. Beneath her stubborn exterior, she was collapsing under the weight of her own life, exactly as I was collapsing under mine.
