Janelle
The threatening note burned in my pocket like a brand as I scrubbed the marble floors of the main hall. Three days had passed since I had found it on my pillow, and I jumped at every shadow, every unexpected sound. My hands trembled as I worked, making the simple task of cleaning feel impossible.
"Janelle, you missed a spot," Clara whispered, kneeling beside me with her own scrub brush. The morning sun streamed through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the polished stone.
I looked down to see my cloth had been moving in circles over the same clean section for minutes. "Sorry, I'm.."
"Distracted. I know." Clara's voice was gentle but worried. "You've been like this since you found that note. Maybe you should talk to someone."
"Who?" I laughed bitterly, the sound echoing in the vast space. "Mrs. Crawford? The guards? They'd think I was mad."
