After Dark

The smell of lemon polish was a part of me, clinging to my clothes, my skin, even my hair, a quiet hum in the background whenever I was inside the Dovewood mansion. It smelled of hard work, of too much money, and of a world that definitely wasn't mine. From the grand hall, I could hear Mom, Elena, humming a soft, off-key tune. Thump, thump, went her duster against a fancy wooden railing. Just another regular Tuesday.

I stood by a tall window in the main living room. Mom was cleaning the huge crystal chandelier nearby, her movements careful and slow. Her cough had been worse this morning, a rough, wet sound that made my stomach clench. But she just smiled it off, like always.

"You really don't need to dust the skirting boards, Maeve," Mom said, her voice a little breathless as she reached for a high part of the chandelier. "Just rest your feet, dear. You've had a long day at school."

"I'm fine, Ma," I lied, keeping my voice light. "Besides, Mrs. Dovewood likes things extra clean."

Mom chuckled softly. "She likes things perfect, yes. But she knows you're not meant to be working."

I just hummed, picking up a fancy, unused tissue from a silver box on a side table. My gaze drifted across the room, over the shining marble floor, the velvet couches that looked too perfect to sit on, the endless fancy paintings. It was all so grand, so untouchable. And it was all because of people like the Dovewoods. They lived in this huge bubble, not knowing – or caring – about people like us.

My own life felt like two separate books. One was Maeve Briggs, high school senior, trying to keep up her grades and pretend everything was normal. The other was "Eve," the girl with the dark wig and fake ID, dancing on a small stage downtown. That was the book I kept hidden, guarded with my life. It was a secret I'd die before anyone found out. Especially Mom. And Jasper. And Nova, my best friend, who thought my nights were spent studying or binge watching shows.

"What are you thinking about so hard?" Mom asked, pulling me back. She was wiping her hands on her apron.

"Just... homework," I said quickly. The lie felt thick in my throat. "Another essay for English."

Mom nodded, her eyes soft. "You work so hard, Maeve. Just finish up soon, and we'll head home. Jasper will be waiting at Mrs. Ani's."

Jasper. My little brother. He was ten, full of energy, and he was often at Mrs. Ani's house next door after school. Mrs. Ani was old and kind, and her grandson, who was Jasper's age, was his best friend. It was our routine, the one small bit of normalcy we had. It meant I didn't have to worry about him being alone while Mom finished her long shifts here.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the quiet air of the mansion, sharp and impatient. "Elena! Have you seen my watch?"

My body tensed. Caden.

He appeared in the doorway, tall and lean, with that easy confidence that came from never having to worry about anything. His dark hair was a bit messy, like he'd just run a hand through it without a care. His eyes, dark and sharp, scanned the room, landing on Mom first, then on me. He wore expensive jeans and a t-shirt that probably cost more than my whole week's groceries.

"Mr. Caden," Mom said, her voice instantly softer, more polite. "I believe I saw it on your bedside table this morning, sir, when I was tidying."

Caden scoffed. "Well, it's not there now, is it? Can you look again? And quickly." His tone wasn't rude, exactly, but it was demanding, like he expected the world to jump when he spoke.

Mom nodded immediately. "Of course, sir. Right away." She started heading for the grand staircase.

"No, wait," Caden said, his eyes still on me. "Maeve. You can go. You always know where things are. Go check my room."

My heart hammered against my ribs. Go into his room? Alone? My stomach twisted. "Me, sir?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. "Mom knows where everything is."

"I asked you, didn't I?" His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it held a hint of steel. "It's just a watch. Bedroom, bedside table. Hurry up."

Mom gave me a quick, reassuring look, probably thinking he was just being helpful. "Go on, dear. Help Mr. Caden."

I swallowed hard. There was no way out. The thought of being in Caden's private space, even for a moment, made my skin prickle. It wasn't just him being bossy. There was something in his gaze, a cold, knowing flicker, that always made me feel seen in a way I hated.

I walked past him, trying to make myself small, but he didn't move. I felt his eyes on my back as I headed for the stairs. Up the sweeping staircase, past more paintings, down a long hallway. His room was at the very end, grander than all the others.

The door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open slowly. The room was huge, with a giant bed covered in dark, expensive blankets. Clothes were strewn on a chair, a pair of fancy sneakers kicked off by the door. It was messy, but a rich person's messy.

I walked to the bedside table. No watch. My eyes darted around the room. On the dresser? No. On the floor by the bed? No.

Then, I heard the click of the door closing behind me. My breath hitched.

I spun around. Caden was leaning against the closed door, his arms crossed, a lazy half-smile on his lips. His eyes, those sharp, dark eyes, were fixed on me. And they weren't just seeing Maeve, the maid's daughter. They were seeing something else.

"Looking for this?" he asked, holding up a gleaming silver watch between his thumb and forefinger. It glinted in the soft light from the window.

My blood ran cold. He'd had it all along. He'd sent me in here just to trap me. "You... you had it," I whispered, my voice trembling.

His smile widened, a slow, predatory grin that sent shivers down my spine. "Of course I did. I needed to talk to you. Alone." He took a slow step towards me, then another.

My eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape, but there was nowhere to go. My heart hammered. This was it. This was the moment. He knew.

"You know," he began, his voice a low, casual drawl, "you look a lot different without that black wig, 'Eve'."

The air left my lungs in a whoosh. My secret. It was out. Not to Mom yet, but to him. And he held all the power. I felt a wave of icy dread wash over me, colder than any fear I'd ever known. My two worlds had just violently crashed into each other, and Caden Dovewood was standing right in the wreckage.