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ELLA

I wake up feeling empty. Tired and sore too, but mostly empty.

The sun creeps through my small window and lands on the silver dress still lying on the floor.

I stare at it for a long time. The fabric doesn’t look magical anymore.

For a moment, I still feel it against my skin. See the way I looked in the mirror. The way I believed I could step into the world and have a day in the sun.

I close my eyes and see him. Nathaniel. Touching me. Kissing me. Making me feel things I never thought possible. And then…

Get dressed.

Now, Ella.

I have work to do. Manual labor is a blessing sometimes. Heartbreak means nothing if floors need to be polished and furniture needs to be dusted.

I push back the covers. The glass bracelet is still on my wrist. I reach for the clasp but stop.

I take a quick shower, washing the makeup from my face and the product from my hair. I blow-dry my hair and pin it back in a bun. When I look in the mirror, I almost don’t recognize myself.

Not because I look different.

Because I look exactly the same.

Ella Hart.

Maid.

Pale face. Tired eyes. Hair pulled back neatly. Mouth bare. Black uniform buttoned to the throat.

No silver dress.

No lipstick.

The only proof last night ever happened is the silvery blue polish on my nails. A day of cleaning will take care of that.

“Get started,” I say out loud.

It’s linen laundry day, so I pull the covers back to strip the bed.

And that’s when I see it.

A few tiny flecks of dried blood. Not much. Barely anything.

But enough.

Heat crawls up my neck.

I’m about to pull the fitted sheet off when a knock sounds at my door. Jeez, what now? I open the door, and Charlotte stands there, Tiffany just behind her.

“Well,” Charlotte says. “There she is.”

Tiffany leans against the doorframe. “The belle of the ball.”

I reach for my shoes. “I’m going to be late.”

“Oh, listen to her.” Charlotte steps farther into the room without being invited. “One night at a Vexley event and suddenly she has a schedule.”