Chapter 750

• A week had passed, and Millicent had mastered the art of being a ghost. She had calculated every movement, every breath, to ensure her path never crossed with Harold’s.
• She volunteered for the most grueling shifts in the laundry room, where the steam was so thick it acted as a veil, and she stayed tucked in the corner of the kitchen, peeling vegetables until her fingers were raw.
• As long as she was surrounded by the other staff and the clatter of copper pots, she felt a sliver of safety.