Eva sat in the dark for ten minutes. She listened to the house. When the shouting faded, she changed.
The spare uniform she found in the closet was two sizes too big. It hung off her frame, the gray fabric coarse and smelling of dust. But it covered her.
She pushed the door open.
Hester Crawford was waiting.
She wasn't alone. Two security guards stood behind her, their arms crossed.
Eva stopped. She lowered her head, trying to make herself small, trying to sidestep toward the service stairs.
Hester stepped into her path.
Smack.
The slap came out of nowhere. It was precise, practiced. Hester's ring caught Eva's cheekbone, cutting the skin.
Eva's head snapped to the side. She tasted blood.
She didn't make a sound. She brought a hand to her face, covering the stinging flesh.
Hester didn't yell. She pulled a wet wipe from her purse and began to clean her hand, scrubbing each finger as if she had touched rotting meat.
"You are a stain on this house," Hester said. Her voice was conversational, chillingly calm. "Do not think for a second that my son cares about you. You are a receptacle for his anger. Nothing more."
Eva stared at the floor tiles.
"Go to the lower levels," Hester commanded, tossing the used wipe into a nearby bin. "You are banned from the main wing until further notice. Go clean the filth where you belong."
Eva bowed. A reflex. A survival tactic.
She turned and walked away, her spine rigid.
"Increase the dosage," she heard Hester murmur to the guard as she walked away. "She's looking too alert."
Eva's heart skipped a beat, but she didn't falter.
She reached the servants' quarters in the basement. It was louder here, the air thick with the smell of industrial cleaner and cabbage.
Three maids were gathered by the vending machine. They didn't see Eva in the shadows.
"Did you hear?" one whispered. "Senator Bowen just announced his re-election campaign."
"The nerve," another scoffed. "After selling his own daughter to pay off his gambling debts? Man has no soul."
"Alek keeps her around as a trophy," the third said, laughing darkly. "A reminder of what happens when you cross a Crawford. I bet he drugged her to shut her up. No way she just went mute on her own."
Eva pressed her back against the wall. Her fingernails dug into her palms.
Is that what they think? That I'm broken?
She slipped away before they saw her. She ducked into the laundry room.
The hum of the massive industrial washers drowned out her thoughts. She walked to the nearest machine and began shoving dirty sheets into the drum.
Her hand brushed her pocket. She felt the small plastic bottle there.
She pulled it out. It was labeled "Vitamins - Daily."
She opened it. Inside were white pills.
Hester's pills.
Eva walked to the drain in the floor. She dumped the pills out, watching them dissolve in the gray water. From a hidden pocket in her undershirt, she pulled out a nearly identical bottle. This one contained actual vitamins she had pilfered from the infirmary supply months ago, exploiting a blind spot in the west-wing camera feed she'd discovered during her first year. She'd learned to manage the rare blood tests with forced hydration and carefully timed meals.
She wasn't drugged. She had been switching them for three years.
She was awake. She was aware. And she was angry.
The TV mounted in the corner of the room flashed a breaking news banner.
SCANDAL ROCKS BOWEN FAMILY.
Eva froze. She looked up.
A photo of a blonde woman appeared on the screen. Britt Bowen. Her half-sister.
The headline scrolled: BRITT BOWEN ARRESTED FOR DUI. DRUGS FOUND IN VEHICLE.
Eva stared at the image of Britt, looking disheveled and defiant in her mugshot. Britt, who had tormented Eva as a child. Britt, who was Daddy's favorite.
The machine behind her beeped loudly, signaling the end of a cycle.
The door to the laundry room burst open.
Felicity, the young kitchen maid, ran in. Her face was flushed.
"Eva!" she gasped. "You have to come. Now."
Eva raised an eyebrow.
"It's Mr. Crawford," Felicity said, wringing her hands. "He's asking for you. He saw the news."
