Chapter 7: Maria's Compassion
Creak The door inched open, casting a sliver of light across the cold basement floor where I sat shivering. I expected to see Antonio's hulking silhouette, but instead, a slight figure with careworn hands and a sprig of gray hair entered.
"Miss Samantha, my name's Maria. I-I'm the housekeeper here," she spoke with a quivering voice, her eyes darting around as if expecting a shadow to jump out from the corners.
"Maria please, you have to help me," I begged, my voice echoing faintly against the stone walls. "He's insane. Mr. Russo is completely bonkers, and he's got me trapped!"
"Oh, child," she sighed, her expression a mixture of sorrow and determination. "I've seen more than my share of Mr. Russo's... 'episodes.' It tears at me, seeing you like this."
I frowned, puzzlement momentarily overtaking my fear. "Episodes? You mean, this has happened before?"
Maria hummed, a musical noise enveloped in melancholy. "Mmm, yes. I fear Mr. Russo tends to... become enchanted with things-or people-that he cannot have."
The sound of footsteps overhead made both of us freeze. Maria quickly composed herself, her demeanor shifting from confidante to servant in a heartbeat. "Now, let's see about getting you more... comfortable." She fiddled with the knots that bound my hands.
I winced as the ropes fell away, restoring circulation. "Comfortable?" I scoffed. "How can I be comfortable when I'm a bird in a gilded cage?"
"Better gilded than rusted," Maria whispered, almost to herself. "Listen, Miss Samantha, I will aid you as best I can. But it's ticklish business, crossing Mr. Russo."
"I don't care about ticklish!" I hissed, my resolve hardening as the shadows seemed to press in around us. "I'll dance on porcupines if it means getting out of here!"
Maria couldn't suppress a chuckle. "Oho, you're spirited-I'll give you that. Now, hush. Plans are for quiet whispers and stealthy shadows. Tears louder than a mouse's squeak it shan't be."
Her conspiratorial wink kindled a frail hope in my chest. "Quiet whispers. Got it," I murmured back, the beginning of a strategy forming in my mind.
Over the next hour, Maria brought me food and water, and talked to me about the mansion's layout, her voice barely above a soft coo. "There are more doors than locks in this place, and some that haven't been opened in ages."
"Secrets upon secrets," I mused, still gobbling down the meager sustenance.
"Yes And secrets can become keys," Maria replied cryptically, the shine in her eyes telling of inner thoughts unspoken.
Noise outside the door heralded our hasty adieu. Maria rose, her spine straightening as she morphed back into the dutiful housekeeper. "Until next time, Miss Samantha," she said, her voice now crisp with formality.
"Wait," I called out quietly as she turned to leave. "Why are you helping me? You could get in serious trouble with Vincent if he finds out."
Maria paused, her hand resting on the doorknob. "Because no one deserves to live in fear." The door closed with a soft click, leaving me alone once again, but now with a whisper of courage to call my own.
