The servant's daughter and the aristocrats' son engage in a prohibited bond.
Melanie moves in with her mother to work in the Kingstons' household, who have just had their son, Kai, come back from a mysterious absence.
After Kai walks in on her at...
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When the nurse asked whether I could bring a family member, I was tongue-tied.
When Ryan stepped in and said, “I’m here; her brother,” I was more tongue-tied.
With my sore, bruised arm, I could hardly say anything, though. I had fallen on my side in an abnormal position that shot pain through my whole side and paralysed me. The pain of a slitted, blood-gushing arm was like no other I had faced. It burned through my entire nervous system and almost knocked me out.
My slit arm needed stitches for the blood to stop and the wound to heal faster and better. Although the doctor used local anaesthesia, I wished she also did something for my eyes to stay closed and not witness the procedure. It was disturbing to see someone sewing my skin like a cloth.
“This is all your fault,” Jason blamed Kai and Ryan.
After I fell, I gathered the attention of every single person back at Massie’s. Only Jason, Kai and Ryan came with me while the rest stayed to finish up preparations before they could go with me. If Massie hated me and didn’t come at that limit, I wouldn’t blame her.
“Jason, this isn’t the time,” I interrupted another fight that was about to happen. “Can you all please let me rest? I really need it.”
The three men nodded against their will and left me in the hospital room. The doctor recommended I stay for the end of the day to ensure I didn’t get a concussion. Ryan had checked me in a first-class room I didn’t exactly approve of, but as I said, I had no energy to object, and the bed was soft and nice. I could rest comfortably.
I looked down at my bandaged arm. When did my life become that painful, literally? A few months ago, I had been Melanie, the girl who had just graduated from high school and celebrated it with her mum, who was the only person in her life. Just the two of us.
Our life was tough but fairly simple. Sleep, wake up to eat and go to school, work part-time jobs, study till midnight, then sleep again. If they asked me back then whether I desired change, I might’ve said yes, but if they told me that was the change that was going to happen, I’d have escaped.
The sudden rude opening of the door stole the time I had been given to rest. Behind it appeared a middle-aged woman, dressed formally.
“Hola.”
I looked at her from head to toe, judging her impoliteness. “Hola?” I greeted back, cringing. It was more of a ‘how dare you’ rather than a greeting.
“¿Eres Melanie?”
“Wrong room, Ma’am,” I said disinterestedly, although I understood what she said. “And I don’t speak Spanish.”
Her eyes roamed around the place awkwardly before she cleared her throat. “Sorry, I’m Jennifer Martinez. You’re Melanie?” she talked in heavily accented English.
