He Remembered Me

Chapter 6

I didn't move.

I just stood there like an idiot while Matthias Ashford walked to the chair across from mine and sat down. He set a folder on the table. Opened it. Looked down at whatever was inside.

He hadn't looked at me yet.

I used those two seconds to get my face under control.

This was fine. It was fine. He probably kissed women at bars frequently. He probably didn't even remember. He was forty years old, and I was some college freshman who'd grabbed him without warning and disappeared into the night. I was nobody to him. A footnote. A weird Tuesday.

He looked up.

Our eyes met and something behind his went very, very still.

He remembered.

I saw it happen. The slight shift in his jaw. The way his eyes moved over my face with a precision that wasn't casual. He recognized me and then, within the space of a single breath, he buried it.

"Aria Lennox," he said.

His voice was exactly what I remembered from the bar. Low. Controlled.

"Yes."

"Sit down."

I sat.

He looked back at the folder. "You're a freshman at Lunar Ridge."

"Yes."

"General studies."

"For now."

He turned a page. "No formal work experience listed here."

"I worked at a café two summers in a row. Cash register, cleaning, customer complaints. It's not glamorous, but it means I can follow a routine, and I don't quit when things get tedious."

He didn't look up. "Previous employment references?"

"The café closed down six months ago. The owner moved out of state. I can give you her number if you want to call."

"We'll verify independently." He turned another page. "You listed evenings and weekends for availability."

"Yes."

"Some shifts here begin at five AM."

"That's fine."

Now he looked up. It was the same thing Victoria had done, that measuring look, except Victoria's was cold calculation. Matthias's was something else. He was looking at me the way someone looks at a thing they're trying to place—a song they almost recognize.

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

Something moved behind his eyes.

"Victoria tells me your parents are on staff."

"Yes."

"You didn't mention that in your application."

"I didn't think it would help me. I didn't want to get hired because of them. I wanted to get hired because I'm actually useful."

He was quiet for a moment.

Outside the window, the groundskeeper had stopped working and was packing up his tools. The light was going gold, that late afternoon color that made everything look softer than it was.

"This estate runs on discretion," Matthias said. "Staff don't discuss what happens here. They don't take photos. They don't talk to the press or post on social media about their work. That agreement is non-negotiable, and breaking it has legal consequences."

"Understood."

"The role is basic household maintenance. Cleaning assigned rooms and corridors. You'll report to Marta, the head of household staff. You won't have access to private areas unless specifically directed." He paused. "You won't have access to the upper floors."

"Okay."

"You don't have questions about that?"

"Should I?"

He looked at me again. That same still quality behind his eyes, like something in him was paying attention in a way the rest of him wasn't acknowledging.

"Most people ask about the upper floors," he said.

"I'm not most people."

Silence.

He closed the folder.

For a moment I thought he was going to say something about the bar. Some cool, cutting reference. Make me feel stupid for thinking he hadn't noticed or that I'd gotten away with something.

Instead, he said, "Thursday. Six PM. Ask for Marta."

That was it. I was hired.

I stood and picked up my bag. My legs were steadier than I expected.

I was almost at the door when his voice stopped me.

"Ms. Lennox."

I turned.

He was still seated, one hand resting on the closed folder, watching me with an expression I couldn't fully read. Not warm. Not hostile. Something in between that had no clean name.

"You should know," he said, "that I don't hire people as favors. Not for their parents. Not for anyone." He paused. "You're here because your application showed more thought than the other twelve I reviewed this week."

I didn't know what to do with that.

"Thank you," I said.

"Don't thank me. Work well."

I walked out.

The hallway was long and quiet, and my footsteps sounded too loud against the stone floor. I passed a mirror near the entrance and caught my own reflection. I looked completely normal. Calm even.

Good. That was good.

I pushed through the front door and out into the evening air. The sky had gone orange above the treeline. Somewhere across the grounds a door banged shut.

I pulled out my phone to check the bus schedule.

Three missed calls from my mother.

My stomach dropped.

I called her back. It rang twice before she picked up.

"Aria." Her voice was tight in a way she only got when she was scared and trying not to show it. "Have you spoken to your father today?"

"No. Why?"

"He went to get supplies from the maintenance depot two hours ago, and he hasn't come back. I called his cell, and it's going straight to voicemail. I asked his supervisor, and they said he clocked out, but nobody saw him leave the grounds."

The air felt colder suddenly.

"He probably just lost track of time, Mom. You know how he gets."

"Aria." She said my name quietly, and it carried everything she wasn't saying. "Something feels wrong."

I turned around.

The estate stretched out behind me, lights starting to come on inside as the evening settled. Somewhere in that building was Matthias Ashford, who had just hired me and told me nothing here was given as a favor.

Somewhere on these grounds my father had disappeared.

"I'm coming back," I said into the phone.

"What? No, you don't have to..."

"I'm already here, Mom. I'll find him."

I hung up and stood there for a second staring at the gate I'd been about to walk through.

Three months. That was how long I had before a car went off a mountain road and took everything from me.

I'd been back four days.

And it was already starting.