Chapter 5
I laughed. "Fine. The cupboard is great."
I turned and walked out. Nathan's voice came from behind me.
"See you tonight, Sophie."
I didn't answer.
Back in the cupboard, I pulled the knife from under the mattress and sat on the bed, staring into space.
Nathan was moving in. That wasn't a coincidence.
The Carters needed Shaw's money. Nathan needed a Carter daughter. But Emily was adopted. The real one was in the cupboard.
He was targeting me. I could tell from what happened at the gate.
My phone buzzed. An email.
[New info. Nathan's last fiancée was last seen at the Shaw family's country house. The police investigated. No evidence. Case closed. But one detail: a week before she disappeared, she told a friend that Nathan had violent tendencies.]
Me: [Check Emily. Does she know something too?]
[Working on it.]
I put the phone down, tucked the knife behind my waist, and walked out of the cupboard.
I was going to the kitchen.
Not to steal anything. To find someone.
The maid was washing vegetables. When she saw me, her face changed. "What are you doing here?"
"Helping," I said. "We have a guest tonight. I want to make a dish."
"We don't need your—"
"I can make braised short ribs," I said. "Trust me, it will taste better than what you make here."
She stared at me suspiciously.
I pulled out the money from my pocket. I had a few dollars left from the hundred. I shoved it all into her hand. "For wine. My treat."
She took the money. Her attitude softened. "What are you making?"
"Red wine braised short ribs," I said. "I need cheap red wine. A lot of it."
She pointed to a cabinet. "It's in there. Don't tell anyone I gave it to you."
I grabbed the wine and got to work.
The short ribs were already there. I seared the braised short ribs first, then slow-cooked them in a full bottle of red wine with aromatics until the meat was fall-apart tender.
When the smell started filling the kitchen, the maid swallowed hard.
"You actually know how to cook," she said.
"You learn when you're hungry," I said. "If you don't cook, you starve."
The meat turned shiny and red. It wobbled on the spoon. I scooped some into a bowl and told the maid to take the rest to the dining room.
"This bowl is mine," I said.
"Madam said you can't—"
"I'll eat in the kitchen," I cut her off. "They won't see me."
She didn't argue.
I sat on a little stool in the kitchen and enjoyed the food.
This was the first dish I learned to cook after I was taken.
The man who took me was called Ramon. He was a bachelor. He didn't buy me to be his daughter. He bought me to work. I started cooking when I was five. If I did it wrong, he hit me.
Ramon loved drinking. After I learned to make braised short ribs, I added extra red wine every time to get him drunk.
When he was drunk, he hit me less.
Eventually, he got drunk and died. I called the cops. I said he fell.
No one suspected anything. What bad intentions could a five-year-old girl have?
I finished the meat, washed the bowl, and walked out of the kitchen.
Laughter came from the dining room. Nathan was telling jokes. Emily laughed like a princess. Grace looked at them with loving eyes.
I stood in the shadows and watched.
The engagement party in three months was going to be interesting.