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After I finished the first bathroom, I started walking down the hall toward the next. I decided to peek in one of the rooms so I could look out the windows. When I opened the door at the end of the hall, I nearly gasped out loud. I was in a library, one to rival the media center back at the community college. There were floor-to-ceiling shelves on almost all the walls—except for where the wall curved outward. That was where the windows were located.

Out of every room in the mansion, this one was already my favorite, probably because I had a bias for books. Hoarding books would never feel over the top to me, because, even though I would never have a library this beautiful, books were meant to be preserved and loved like this. Even people like me who couldn’t afford a room this extravagant could appreciate the reverence shown to the written word. I decided then and there that if I ever had free time, I would sneak in here again.

But my purpose had been to look out the windows—and I felt breathless again when I did. The front yard, if I could call it that, was beautiful. The lawn was lush and neatly trimmed, and the yard was bordered by what looked like a wrought-iron fence. There were beautiful tall trees shading much of the yard, and there were bushes and flowers arranged in an artistic fashion.

It was lovely—and if I had even more free time later, I’d plan on spending time outside as well.

After I finished the last bathroom on the main floor, I decided I was ready for a break. I was so tired, thanks to the lack of sleep and emotional exhaustion, but I would not slack off. As much as I hated Whittier, I wanted to prove that I was a woman of my word.

However, a break was warranted.

Meandering to the end of the hall, I peeked out of the huge door. Curious, I walked through, stepping onto a patio with a table covered with an umbrella. This view showed the yard along what appeared to be a side street, which would mean that the mansion sat on a corner lot. Stepping off the patio, I walked toward the front of the mansion and confirmed my theory. The corner of the yard was the spot where two narrow streets met. And in this space was a beautiful stone-colored fountain. There were what looked to be horses facing in four directions with water spraying out of their mouths into the pool below. Around the fountain was a bed of what appeared to be red and white petunias.

I wished I didn’t find it so breathtaking.

Disgusted with myself for enjoying some of the constant displays of wealth, I went back inside the cool mansion and began pushing the cart back toward the center of the house. When I reached the west rear hallway, I stopped pushing and headed toward the kitchen.

Unfortunately, I was also hungry.

When I arrived back at the kitchen, Edna was working at the stove.

“Smells good in here!”

“I’m doing some prep for dinner. Are you ready to eat your steak?”

My stomach growled, but I remembered that I didn’t want Whittier to win. “I’ll eat a bite.”

“I’ve been warming it on the stove. You can also fetch the pineapple out of the fridge too if you like.”

I planned to eat a few slices of it because I thought it would be less apparent than any bites missing from the steak. Soon, she handed me a plate with my reheated steak—and the piece of toast that only had a bite out of it. I put three slices of pineapple on the plate, suspecting that Edna would report to her boss exactly what I consumed. “Where would I find utensils?”

“In that drawer right there.”

After extracting a knife and fork out of the drawer, I sat at the table. Edna said, “I imagine you’re thirsty too. Would you like water or iced tea—or something else?”

“Iced tea sounds nice.” I figured I could use a hit of caffeine to keep me going.

When I looked at the clock, I felt like I’d already lost. It was only nine-thirty. This was going to be a long day. But I could be persistent when I needed to. While I stared at my plate, Edna asked for details about the type of charger and cable I’d need for my phone, and she informed me that she would go shopping after I was done eating—but that she’d be back sometime after noon.

After eating one bite of steak, a nibble of toast, and the three slices of pineapple, I chugged the iced tea and asked Edna to show me the rest of the bathrooms.

After handing me a bottle of drinking water, she showed me the dumbwaiter on the other side of the kitchen. We put in all the supplies I needed and sent it upstairs. When we got to the second floor, she showed me where it was located. “You’ll be cleaning all the bathrooms in this wing, except for Mr. Whittier’s room.”

“I don’t know which one that is.”

“It’s this one at the end of the hall,” she said as we neared the door. “He’s in the master suite.”

I understood why he didn’t want me in his room and I thought it was a good call. As angry as I was with him, I couldn’t trust myself—and then I remembered how he’d threatened to not help my father. Regardless of how much I hated the man, I needed to watch myself.

“You’ll be cleaning the bathrooms in the other three rooms, including yours—and I recommend you don’t slouch off in your bathroom.”

He really was going to inspect my work. Good to know.

“So why am I only cleaning the bathrooms in this wing on the second and third floors?”

I couldn’t read her expression, but I immediately knew she wasn’t telling me the whole story. “We don’t use the second floor east wing at all, and Greg and his wife use the third floor of the east wing, so they tend to the cleaning there.”

I should have counted myself lucky…but I instead found myself wondering what they were hiding in the second floor of the east wing—and pondering when I could find out for myself.