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Maybe it was a raise—even though it wouldn’t be anything I could actually enjoy, it would mean a lot, knowing he was pleased with my work. And, if I could continue getting raises, maybe I could take some time off this sentence.

My mind was so abuzz with what it could be, I finally said, “You can give it to me now.”

“You haven’t finished eating.”

“I’m not that hungry.” That was the truth. Now that he’d piqued my curiosity, I wanted nothing more than to satisfy it.

“Very well. Come with me.”

Soon, we were heading to his office and then I knew it had to be something like arrangements for my father or a raise. If it had had something to do with my actual work, we could have discussed it at the table or gone downstairs. I tried not to let my eagerness show on my face as we entered his office.

After I entered the room, he closed the door—but it wasn’t because he wanted to speak in private, and I didn’t understand that until he removed a hanger from the door from which a black-and-white dress hung.

“I understand that you and Edna chose a uniform for you to wear tonight, but this will be your uniform.”

As he held it toward me, I didn’t want to take it. Although I was certain it would fit, I didn’t want to wear it. The skirt looked to be a little shorter than I was comfortable with—and, if the catering crew were all wearing slacks, I’d stick out like a sore thumb.

Maybe that was what he wanted.

“Why?”

His voice took on a bit of a gruff edge, a sound I was beginning to like, despite all the reasons why I shouldn’t have. “Because I said so.”

And then it dawned on me: this was my final punishment for breaking his rules. It all made sense—the continued surliness and lack of communication were part of it too. I hadn’t finished paying for my infraction.

I knew arguing would get me nowhere—so all I could do was hope it wouldn’t fit. Then I’d wear the uniform Edna and I had assembled and he’d have to deal with it.

I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d bested me, so I simply said, “Fine.”

“It should fit—and Edna said you had some flat black shoes that would work all right with it. If you’d prefer different shoes, let her know this morning.”

I simply shrugged and asked, “Is that all?”

“Yes. That’s all.” Even though his lips didn’t smile, I could see it in his eyes. So I turned and left his office. I took the uniform and hung it on the doorknob to my bedroom. Then I headed back to the kitchen—and if I hadn’t lost my appetite earlier due to anticipation, I’d lost it now due to anger and disgust.

When I walked over with my plate to the work area to scrape it off, Edna took it from me. “Mr. Whittier said he was going to have you wear a different uniform. Have you tried it on yet?”

“No.” It would be far easier to have to switch into a different uniform if I waited until the last-minute due an ill-fit. If I tried it on now, I wouldn’t be able to use that excuse.

“Head upstairs and do that. Mr. Whittier seemed to think you might want different shoes. If you do, let me know.”

Of course, I wouldn’t find any sympathy with Edna, not when it came to her Sinny.

So I headed to my room, picking up the hanger from the doorknob as if there were an infectious disease clinging to it. As I stood outside my room, I heard Sinclair’s shoes treading in the main hallway, and I was glad I was out of sight so I wouldn’t have to acknowledge him.

In my room, I took a better look at the dress. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. The fabric was of better quality than I was used to—soft and shiny black with white accents for the trim and collar, as well as a middle section on the front. Between the breasts, there was white fabric that ended at the waist and, at the top, there was a tiny black bow. There was also a white apron with black trim that I’d wear at the waist.

My cheeks flamed before I even took off my clothes to try it on and I knew that a good part of this final punishment was the humility I’d feel wearing it. Not only was serving him and his guests reminding me of my place—something he’d planned long before my infraction—but the clothing would likely keep me in line because I’d want to be noticed even less than I had before.

As I slipped on the dress, I thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad—but it was. The ruffly skirt ended mid-thigh, so I’d have to be careful bending down, and the top showed off a bit of my cleavage. And it fit like a glove, as if it had been made exactly for me. I had an ugly bruise on one of my shins from bumping into one of the statues I was moving downstairs and I felt humiliated all over again.

But then I had an idea.

If he wanted me to look like a tart, why couldn’t I take it several steps further? I could try beating him at his own game. Looking up maid uniform on the internet, I found several cosplay and Halloween costume versions that were exactly what I wanted to check out.

In my closet, I still had the three-inch black heels I’d worn at the college celebration the night I’d been whisked away from home. All I needed was one other item.

Once I got dressed in my own clothes, I headed back downstairs and found Edna sitting at the table polishing silverware. I said, “I do need one item of clothing for my new uniform.”