Chapter 10 – What Is His Full Name?
AVERY ><><
I kept staring at the photograph in my hand,
The maid had called it Master's picture. My husband's picture.
"He's the one," she said, her tone clipped. "That was when he was younger."
I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself.
"Why are you asking, Mr Avery? Does Master look familiar with someone you know?" The maid asked, tilting her head a little, her voice soft but curious.
I nodded slowly, not sure how to put it into words yet. My heart was pounding, and I felt a chill run down my spine.
"I doubt you know him, Mr. You know it's normal to see a doppelgänger of yours. I think that is why you are saying that The picture was looking so familiar," she said, giving me a small smile like she was trying to brush it off.
I couldn't help but wonder why she was pushing back so hard on this. It was like she was defending him before I even said anything bad.
Why was she so quick to argue that whoever I was thinking of couldn't possibly be the same person as the one in the photo?
It made no sense. She acted like she'd known my husband—wait, that word still felt weird rolling around in my head, like it didn't belong there. Husband. Just thinking it gave me goosebumps all over again.
Anyway, back to her. Why was she behaving like she'd been by his side since the day he was born? Like she'd trailed after him everywhere he went, knowing every little detail about his life.
The way she stood there insisting it wasn't the same person who looked so familiar to me—it was suspicious.
Almost like she'd met the guy I was remembering and knew for a fact they weren't connected. Or maybe she was just protective, like a guard dog for the family. Either way, it rubbed me the wrong way.
I decided it wasn't worth fighting her on it right then. Arguing would just waste time, and I needed answers. The only thing that would help was seeing more pictures, especially from when he was younger. That would settle it once and for all, clear up this fog in my brain.
"You know what?" I said, forcing a smile that didn't even reach my eyes. "Do you by any chance have other younger pictures of him? Maybe grade school. Grade four. Or… his last year of high school. That would clear my doubt."
"Sir may I know why you need that?" she asked, her eyebrows knitting together like she was suspicious of me now.
I gritted my teeth, feeling a hot wave of anger build up inside.
Who was she to question me like this? I wasn't sure about a lot in this massive house but one thing I knew for certain: this maid wasn't going to last long if I had any say in it. Not even a month.
She was too nosy.
I gritted my teeth, holding my tongue from snapping the way I wanted to. This maid was already getting on my nerves, and I hadn't even been in this house for more than a few hours. One thing I was sure of is that she wouldn't last a month.
I inhaled deeply, then let my anger out in a sharp exhale.
"Are you forgetting he's my husband?" I said, my voice cutting. "I have rights to look at his older pictures if I want. Or is that part of the rules? Not allowed to know the man I am married to?"
Her eyes widened, and she bowed quickly. "I am so sorry, Master." Her voice shook, and she backed out of the room almost immediately.
I stood there waiting, my eyes glued to the photo in my hand. The longer I stared, the more it bugged me. The resemblance was too strong to ignore.
My gut twisted.
"This doesn't look like a mistake…" I muttered under my breath. "This looks too much like him."
The more I stared, the harder it was to breathe.
"It looks so much like my high school bully."
"Even though I've forgotten all of my classmates, I would never forget the one that made my life a living hell."
Memories flooded back—those awful days in school, the taunts, the pushes in the hallway, the way he'd made me feel small and worthless.
"Sir, I think you got it wrong," I heard the maid say, and I quickly turned around to look at her, snapping out of my thoughts.
"Are you back with the pictures I requested?" I asked her, and she nodded her head, holding out a small stack.
"Ooh, wow. You were so quick with it. I thought you were going to take at least five minutes to fetch the pictures," I said, a bit surprised. She must have known exactly where they were kept.
"So how long have you been here?" I asked her, trying to make it sound casual, like small talk, but really I wanted to figure out why she was so invested in all this.
She gave me a forced smile, like she was holding back. "Long enough to hear that you called your husband your high schoool bully."
"Sir don't you think such attitude and accusation can get you sued by the family if they hear that," she asked me with all seriousness.
You know what.
My blood boiled instantly. This bloody witch. She was really trying me. I clenched my fists at my sides, muttering under my breath, She's starting to piss me off. No, she's really pissing me off. Who does she think she is? More loyal than the family themselves?
Did she actually think that if their beloved, bedridden son never woke up, the family would hand everything—the house, the wealth, the power—over to her? Is that why she was standing here acting like she owned the place?
It made sense now. She was only doing her job, trying to protect her master's image. But the way she defended him, the way she spoke, it was almost as if she had something more to lose than just employment.
I took a deep breath and turned to face her properly. My eyes burned as I stared her down.
"I don't remember accusing my husband," I said slowly. "There's a difference between accusing someone and remembering something from your past."
I leaned forward, my voice dropping just enough so only I could hear my own words. "I guess your maid agency didn't teach you that."
"And another thing," I continued, louder now, letting my voice cut through the space between us. "You seem to be forgetting something. I'm family now. I cannot be sued for speaking in my own house. Unless, of course, I break some kind of rule. And the last time I checked, I haven't done a damn thing."
She shifted on her feet, looking a little uncomfortable now. "I didn't mean to overstep, sir. It's just… I've seen how people talk about him, and it hurts to hear anything bad."
It wasn't even up to 10 hours in this house and I already want to kill this good of nothing maid.
She swallowed hard before speaking again. "I did not mean to upset you, sir. It's just that… master could never be a bully." Her voice trembled now, but she pushed on stubbornly.
"He's the kindest person in the world. Even now, his old classmates check up on him, always asking how he's doing. That's the kind of man he is. He couldn't even hurt a fly, much less… bully you."
I know he would never do that," she said, her voice getting a bit passionate, like she was defending a close friend.
"Really? Classmates check on him? That's interesting," I replied, raising an eyebrow. "What kind of people are they? Old friends from school?"
She nodded eagerly. "Yes, sir. They call or visit sometimes. They've known him for years, and they all say the same thing—he was always the one helping others, never causing trouble."
I wasn't buying it completely, but I didn't want to drag this out forever. It was clear she wasn't going to budge. I stretched my hands towards her, urging her to keep shut while requesting for the picture she brought.
"I am sorry Mr Avery but I didn't see one of when he was in the final year in high school but I definitely found one where he was little," she said as she stretched it toward me.
I took the photo gently, my fingers brushing the edges. It was him as a kid, maybe around grade school age, with that same mischievous grin.
I stared at it for what felt like minutes, turning it this way and that under the light.
It still looked familiar. The eyes, the smile, it all screamed the same name in my head.
Is my brain playing trick of me? I wondered, rubbing my temples.
You know what. There is only one way to find out. I then turned to the maid that is always faster than her shadow.
"What is his name?" "What is the full name of my husband?"