Page 22 of Glass

He doesn’t even hesitate before he kicks it, the metal crashing into the ground as the muddy, murky water flows out. It gushes down the steps and down through the hall, destroying every bit of the hours of work I’ve spent scrubbing it.

“How clumsy of me.” He smiles, then. As if the sight of me staring in horror at the work I have to do all over again brings him joy.

It’s an effort to drag my eyes back to his, to meet his stare. But I do, steeling my shoulders.

“Did that feel good?” I ask him quietly. Looking for any part of the Rafael I remember. “Was it worth it?”

The smile slowly slides away from his face. “Better get started, Anastasia. This floor is disgusting.”

But I’ve already turned away from him, carefully stepping down, reaching to tip the bucket upright. “I have a lot to do, it would seem. So if you wouldn’t mind getting the hell out of my way, I’d appreciate it.”

I don’t look up as his footsteps thunder past me, echoing down the hall until they disappear altogether.

I spend several minutes staring at the empty bucket.

No, these are not the boys I remember. And the sooner I get that fact straight inside my head, the sooner my heart can stop hurting.

I work through lunch. Head down, I scrub every single part of the floor again. Then I move onto the windows, polishing each pane of glass until it shines in the bright afternoon light. Up and down the little stepladder, carefully balancing to reach the top panes.

This is familiar. Safe.

I move on from the common areas to the bathrooms. Slowly, I move upstairs, my head swiveling as I look for any sign ofa lingering Tate brother. There’s nobody up here, though, no sounds floating from behind the closed doors.

My eyes catch on one particular door at the end. Closed, of course. But then, it always was.

And then I waste several long minutes staring at the very end of the hall. At the empty space there.

And I turn away abruptly, heading into the first bathroom. Then the second. Washing and scraping and cleaning until my hands feel raw and my eyes are gritty from the number of chemicals I’ve probably unwisely combined. And I haven’t even gone intotheirrooms yet, haven’t been brave enough to cross that boundary.

I’ll have to tomorrow, though.

Ellen finds me as the last of the light fades. I’m in the last bathroom, on my knees trying to clear out the plughole – andew. Thank fuck for rubber gloves. “Anastasia?”

My head jerks up, and I feel a little gratified at the surprise on her face. She glances around the room. “You’ve done a good job.”

I wouldn’t say her tone is particularly warm, but it’s better than the iciness of this morning as I rest back on my heels. “I’m nearly done with this room.”

Her gaze is assessing. I wonder what she expected from me. The spoiled, privileged,ugly stepsister.

“Dinner will be ready soon,” she says quietly. “The brothers eat in the main dining room, and we’ll eat in the kitchen.”

“Sounds good to me.” Best news I’ve had all day, in fact. I have no desire to face Rafe again after the hours I spent cleaning up his damn mess earlier, let alone Silas and Kit at the same time.

“Excellent,” she says crisply. “You can help carry the plates up.”

My mouth opens, and then closes again. “I don’t think I’m clean enough for that.”

I’m actually disgusting by this point. My clothes feel as though they’re about to crawl off me. Ellen grimaces as she looks me over, but she doesn’t say anything, and suspicion curls in my stomach. “They’ve asked for me, haven’t they?”

At least she looks a little sheepish. “They have.”

It takes me a second. To bite down on my lip, hard. To force down the snappish words I want to throw at her. Our history isn’t Ellen’s fault.

Slowly, I rise, yanking off my gloves. “Fine.”

This should be interesting.

Ellen makes me scrub my hands, my arms, almost up to my shoulders, but it doesn’t make much of a difference to the dirt covering the rest of me as I follow her into the dining room. My arms strain under the weight of the silver steel soup tureen I’m carrying. I focus on not dropping it, my eyes very determinedly not moving to the three men sat around the end of the large dining table.