The feast was over. The kitchen staff had hauled all the cauldrons and leftover food back from the guests. The cook had already washed his hands and fled to his quarters. Only Milu, Lilu, and Heather remained; The crisp scent of cold water mingled with the sickening stench of rotting leftovers, making it hard to breathe. Haider labored over the dishes, a monumental task for her. Moonlight glinted sharply in her eyes. She paused, drew a deep breath, and stepped back, her hands numb. Mother left first, then Father... I never imagined this. If you were still here, I wouldn't be running... Hot tears welled in her reddened eyes, spilling down her cheeks and onto her lips. Hunger gnawed at her; she hadn't eaten in days. Six days of emptiness had hollowed her stomach, her ribs stark against her skin.
Kneeling amidst the mess, a sound broke the silence – footsteps, accompanied by a faint chhan-chhan. Who's there now? It was Anish. She heard Heather's soft weeping. "Oh, it's you. They've all gone," Anish remarked. Heather stood abruptly and resumed scrubbing. "I need drinking water," Anish demanded. Heather rinsed her hands and fetched it. Anish took a deep gulp. "Use that pipe over there. It'll speed things up. Don't use so much soap though, or she'll rage." She left, taking the glass.
Heather eyed the pipe. Should I listen? She glanced at the mountain of dishes, then picked up the hose and turned the tap. Nothing. No water? Suddenly, water gushed out, hitting her full in the face, soaking her clothes. "Hah!" Laughing despite herself, she aimed the pipe at a plate. It sparkled clean instantly. "Wow! Heh!" A genuine smile touched her lips for the first time. She works swiftly now. Cleaning, rinsing, stacking. It took time, but finally, it was done. Relief washed over her.
Inside, chaos reigned. Trash piled high. Her stomach growled. "I actually enjoyed that!" Humming a soft tune, she grabbed the hose and marched back into the kitchen, spraying water everywhere. Soon, the floor was a shallow lake. Heather worked frantically to contain the flood. She shut off the water, snatched a broom, and pushed the water out. "Surely there's some food left... They were eating..." Finding nothing, she stepped outside. The night air felt cleansing. With no one to stop her, she felt a surge of freedom. An escape route beckoned.
Heather pushed open the gate and stepped into the whispering night. A strong wind rustled the trees, sending leaves dancing. Somewhere, a frog croaked. Her eyes caught the silhouette of a fruit tree. She approached, but the lowest branch was beyond her reach. Defeated, she sank onto a cool, flat stone by the water's edge, turning her face to the moon. "You're the only one left who might listen. Are you listening? Haa huh... What should I do?" The wind whipped her hair around her face. "Should I run? Or stay? It's impossible. Grandma said... Mother sold me. She took so much money for me..." Memories flooded back, making her hands tremble. "I'm not brave enough. But if Dad finds out... he'll be furious. He always shouted when I made mistakes..." She gazed into the dark water, shimmering under the moon's cold light. Midnight approached.
A rustle came from nearby bushes. Her attention snapped towards the sound. The shadows beneath the trees seemed deeper, more mysterious. Curiosity, a spark she couldn't suppress, flared within her. She stumbled towards the bushes, bracing herself on a rock as dizziness washed over her. "I need to see..." Pushing the foliage aside, she peered in. "Who's there?!" "Meow... Meow..." A tiny kitten emerged – black and white. Heather sighed deeply. "Oh, you scared me!" The kitten rubbed against her ankles. "Where's your mama?" Heather stroked its soft fur with her fingers. As she stood and turned, she froze. Someone else was there.
A girl. Long brown hair. Staring at the moon, just as Heather had been. Heather approached cautiously. "Who are you? When did you come?" The girl seemed unaware, lost in the lunar glow. Heather leaned against the stone. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" Their eyes met. The girl's eyes were pools of absolute black. Strange, pale marks marred her face. "Are you hurt? Your eyes... they're incredible!" They held each other's gaze. Heather swayed, suddenly weak. But the girl – Rosie – moved with preternatural speed, catching Heather before she hit the ground with just one hand. The black-and-white kitten meowed plaintively at their feet. It looked hungry too.
Rosie, slightly taller than Heather, effortlessly lifted her. She carried her towards the house, the kitten trailing behind and settling just outside the door with a soft thump. Rosie held Heather close, then did something strange: she gently licked the tear tracks on Heather's cheek. Heather flinched; the salty taste clearly displeased Rosie, who made a small grimace. Rosie carried Heather back to the stone beneath the tree, laid her down gently, and then... vanished into the night with her kitten.
As soon as dawn broke, the old woman woke up abruptly—or perhaps she hadn't slept peacefully all night. She roused all the servants early. Every morning, she would sit in her garden, sipping tea first thing, but today, she went to the rooms were Cooper and his friends were. The room was in disarray. Last night, when they had all been unconscious, the old woman had locked them inside. He was her servant.
"Why are you here?" she demanded.
"They're supposed to go home today, so I came to wake them… but they won't get up!"
"Tell their families they didn't pay," she snapped. "Say you're taking them home yourself."
The servant said nothing and stepped out. The room bore stains of blood—even Cooper Jr.'s hands were smeared with it. He was still asleep.
Just then, another servant approached the old woman, whispering into her ear. She followed him to another room where the girls who worked the night shifts lay. The space was vast, lined with long beds, each occupied by seven girls. Other women lingered around them, some tending to the girls.
"Madam, Riaa's condition is critical. The bleeding won't stop—what should we do?"
Huri had been searching for the old woman earlier. Upon hearing this, the old lady shrieked, "You're just waiting for her to die! Go call the doctor, now!" The servant fled in fear.
"Where is Riaa? I need to see her!" the old woman yelled again.
Another girl spoke up timidly, "Madam, Liaa's chest is in terrible pain… and Nilua—her whole body is raw and bruised." She doesn't speak a word, seething with anger as she storms downstairs and orders her servant, "Go fetch that driver at once!" Shyam rushes off and soon returns with the driver. "I've already told them everything," the old woman mutters, but the driver leaves without another word.
The elderly woman is deeply troubled, her hands trembling as she clutches her own head in despair. Just then, the servant speaks up, "Why don't you lock him in a room? Don't let him leave until he pays back every last coin. Then watch how his brother comes running here to rescue him—only after returning your money!"
The old woman ponders the servant's words, her mind racing. If I let him go, he'll never repay me. And what about the girls who suffered losses? Who will compensate them? The weight of her worries presses down on her. "The intoxication of liquor will wear off soon anyway," she finally says. "It's best if you move him to a separate room quickly so the other four can leave."
The servant, too, is anxious about his own money. In this place where dreams are stifled by necessity, everyone is consumed by their own financial struggles. Some work for others, some scrape by for themselves—but in the end, everyone is fighting their own battles.
Meanwhile, Huari helps Riaa out of the bathroom to see the doctor, but Riaa's condition is dire. She can barely stand, let alone walk. Blood pours from her body, staining the floor—if she steps out, the rest of the room will be ruined.
"You shouldn't have gone to him," Huari scolds, clutching a blood-soaked cloth in her hands. Riaa weakly grasps Huari's wrist, her voice trembling. "I don't know… something feels terribly wrong. But I had to go—no customers in days. You know what Madam would've done to me if I didn't…"
Tears stream down Riaa's face, her pain raw and visible. Huari gently strokes her cheek, whispering, "This isn't the time to think about that."
The doctor takes longer than expected to arrive. There was another man—an old physician—but he had fallen gravely ill. People had gone to call for him, but he wasn't there. So they waited, helpless, for another doctor to come.In the kitchen, everyone was beginning to prepare breakfast and snacks. The head cook and his assistant arrived, eager to avoid the mistress's wrath if anything was late. Since the palace's elderly master was frequently ill, meals had to be ready on time—so the old woman barked orders at everyone.
Nilu went out to the courtyard and returned with his hands full of scrap. He froze, staring behind the bushes. "What… what is that?" he cried. "Is there a dead body here? Who's died?"
His shout jolted Heather awake—he had been sleeping nearby, and the morning sun was brightening enough to reveal her face. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up and stood. Startled by Nilu's alarm, everyone rushed out. But to their relief and surprise, it was Heather, drenched, her hair wet and clinging to her shoulders.
A collective gasp filled the courtyard—until the cook recognized her. "That's not a dead body, it's a living one," he said, shaking his head. "Look more carefully—it's that foolish girl."
They all shifted their gaze to Heather, who stood shivering in her wet clothes. There was a collective sigh.
Nilu, scolded, retorted, "You're always acting out—look at you, trying to make excuses. Wouldn't anything be right for you?"
Heather hesitated behind them, hungry and shivering, clutching her stomach as if in pain. She trailed after them and peered into the kitchen to see what was happening.
Inside, Chef was making breakfast. Nilu had filtered tea, and bread was being toasted. The old man scolded Heather: "Standing around won't earn you wages. Work here first, then you'll get paid. Understand, girl?"
Heather's wet clothes dripped onto the floor. She squeezed them gently with her small hands, wringing some water out. Then, stepping forward, she quietly voiced, "What… what do I have to do?"
Kilu scented Heather's unwashed clothes and said sharply, "You stink. You've been in the rain and haven't changed yet? Go—change your clothes first, then come back!"