Chapter 5; The first day

Maya’s POV

First days were always nerve-wracking. But this wasn’t just a first day. This was the day.

The bus dropped me a few streets away, and I walked the last stretch with my heart beating too fast.

My blouse was freshly ironed, my black pants pressed too, but my stomach was in knots.

Nora had emailed me the agreement form and instructions last night, and I’d read them over at least a dozen time. Arrival at nine. Polite manners. Dressing neat and appropriate. “Light housekeeping,” whatever that meant.

The gate opened soundlessly after I pressed the bell, and I stepped inside.

I inhaled deeply, forcing myself to calm down, and knocked gently on the front door, it opened after a moment. A middle-aged woman in a simple uniform stood there, wiping her hands on a towel.

“You must be Ms. Torres,” she said with a small smile.

“Yes. Good morning.”

She gave me a small nod and stepped aside. “Come in. Mrs. Harrington’s expecting you.”

I slowly went in with my fingers fidgeting with my bag strap and my eyes darted around as I stepped inside. Like I was looking for something. Someone.

We walked through the hallway lined with framed paintings and pictures, and stopped outside a sitting room. “She’s inside. Go on.” 

It was different from the sitting room I used with Nora, this is bigger with beautiful decorations.

The old woman sat in a cushioned chair near the window, wrapped in a soft pale shawl, her silver hair was glowing in the light. She looked up as I entered, and she smiled immediately.

“Welcome, Maya.”

Hearing my name in her warm, gentle voice eased something in me.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, managing a smile.

“I’m Elena. Come closer, child. Let me see you properly.” She extended a hand, and I moved closer quickly and she took my hand in hers. Her fingers were soft but surprisingly steady as they closed around mine.

“I didn’t get a chance to speak to you properly last time,” she said. “But I told my grandson you had kind eyes. I was right.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Thank you.”

“Sit, sit,” she urged, gesturing to the chair beside her.

I heard quick footsteps, my eyes opened wide as I spunned my head so fast towards the entrance. But it was the woman who got the door for me, walking by.

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t stay here at the family house, he stays at his own penthouse.” Elena said smiling. 

She had obviously seen the fears in my eyes.

I sat carefully, still trying to process how different this was from what I’d imagined. Elena just looked… delighted.

Then her attention shifted. She slowly lifted a strand of my hair, letting it fall between her fingers.

“And this,” she whispered almost to herself. “This reminds me of… her.”

“Her?” I asked in a low tone, confused.

She just gave me a smile with her lips but it didn’t reach her eyes, Her eyes were clouded, leaving a shadow of sorrow, but she didn’t explain further.

I blinked, curiously, but before I say anything else again, she gave my hand a reassuring pat. “You’ll do just fine here, child.”

I nodded faintly, still wondering who her was, but I tucked the thought away.

“You’ll find there’s not much real work here,” she said with a little laugh. “We already have people for the heavy cleaning. What I need is company. Someone to keep me on my feet, make sure I remember to take my medicine, and scold me when I forget to eat lunch.” 

I blinked. “So… I won’t be scrubbing floors or anything?”

She chuckled softly. “Not unless you’re very bored.”

A laugh escaped me, and some of the tension in my shoulders slipped away. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard after all.

                        *              *              *               *

Elena insisted on giving me a tour first, for the next hour, she walked me through the house, showing me each room. Moving carefully as I walked beside her with her hands on my arms. Her voice was lively as she explained the details.

“This is the library,” she said, pushing the double doors open. The smell of old paper and polished wood filled my nose. Books lined the shelves from floor to ceiling, the sunlight falling across the rug in golden stripes.

“I don’t read as much as I used to, but I like to sit here sometimes.”

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered, trailing my fingers along the smooth wood of the nearest shelf. It held no single dust.

She looked at me and smiled, brushing her fingers through my hair again as if she couldn’t help it.

I smiled back politely, but inside, I was puzzled.

My hair had always drawn attention. A strange shade — blue-black, people called it, that in certain light looked almost unreal. Strangers often asked what dye I used, and I always had to laugh and explain it wasn’t dye at all. It was just natural. Something I’d grown up both proud of and tired of defending.

But the way Elena touched it wasn’t curious or admiring. It felt… almost personal.

I pushed the thought aside as we continued.

We moved on to the dining room, the kitchen, a small garden behind the house. Everywhere we went, she told me little stories, when this room had been redecorated, which flowers she liked best, what meals she missed cooking herself.

It felt less like training and more like being welcomed into someone’s life.

At a point, we paused in the hallway where several framed photographs hung on the wall.

My eyes caught on one in particular.

Two young men stood side by side in graduation gowns, smiling stiffly at the camera.

Xavier.

And Dan.

Air left my lungs for a second.

The sight of them together, so young, so full of a future that never included me, made something twist in my chest.

Elena followed my gaze. “That was many years ago. They were inseparable back then.”

I nodded faintly, not trusting myself to say much.

“Do you know them?” she asked gently.

I forced a small smile. “I knew Dan in college.”

She hummed softly and didn’t press further.

                        *              *              *               *

By midday, I realized she’d been right — there wasn’t much for me to do. I kept waiting for the real work to start, for some task to prove I belonged here. But the hours slipped by quietly, and all I really had to do was listen and laugh at her small jokes.

I helped her tidy a few things in the sitting room, made tea in the kitchen, and sat with her while she told me stories about her late husband.

It was… too nice. 

But Elena seemed happy, her laughter filling the sitting room. And slowly, I found myself relaxing, listening, smiling more freely.

Am I really being paid for this?

Maybe this won’t be so hard after all, I thought.

She was in the middle of telling me about her last trip abroad when her voice faltered.

Her hand rose slowly, pressing against her chest.

“Elena?” I asked, leaning forward.

She tried to wave it off, but her breath came uneven, shallow.

Alarm shot through me. “Are you all right?”

Her other hand trembled, reaching for the armrest. Her face went pale. 

“Mrs. Harrington?” My voice rose in panic, setting down the teacup I was carrying.

The cup she was holding slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor. She gasped once, eyes fluttered closed, and before I could process what was happening, she slumped sideways in her chair.

My heart lurched into my throat.

“Oh my God. No, no, no,” I whispered, rushing to her side. “please wake up!”

Her breathing was weak.

I grabbed the phone from the side table with shaking hands and I scrolled desperately through her contacts until I found the first number saved under “X.”

Thank God her phone wasn’t locked with a pin.

I pressed call, praying I was doing the right thing.

The line picked up after two rings.

“Ma, I’ve told you not t—” His voice was deep.

“Mr. Harrington?” My voice shook. “It’s Maya—your grandmother—she just collapsed, I don’t know what to—”

There was a pause, then his voice came heavy through the line.

“On your first day?” he roared.

I flinched, clutching the phone tighter, my pulse hammering in my ears as I looked down at Elena’s fragile frame.

And I had no idea what would happen next. Tears blurred my vision.