Chapter 9

Chapter 9 – Strange Andrews

When Aurora opened her eyes, she found herself face to face with Andrews. He was emotionless, showing no expression whatsoever. Panic washed over her, but she didn’t scream—she just collapsed into the chair, trembling in fear of what he might do.

She stayed completely still, her fingers still clutching the phone to her chest like an amulet that could protect her from whatever came next. Then, without a word or explanation, he turned and walked away.

Andrews’ silhouette disappeared through the door, but the chill he left behind seemed to linger in the room. Aurora felt her legs grow weak but didn’t dare move right away.

Would he come back? What would he do? Why had he left without saying a single word? The questions buzzed in her mind, but no answers came.

Swallowing hard, she took a deep breath and tried to pull herself together. With trembling hands, she placed the phone back on the hook and stood up slowly.

She needed to get out of there before Andrews changed his mind. But the moment she took her first step, the sight of the door left ajar made her stomach twist—he could be lurking, watching, testing her limits.

She closed her eyes for a moment, searching for courage, then decided she couldn’t act like scared prey. She left the office the same way she had entered—quiet and alert.

Her walk back to her room felt like it lasted an eternity. The dark hallway, the faint creaking of the wood beneath her feet... the sensation of being watched was overwhelming. When she finally stepped into her room, she carefully closed the door behind her and pressed her forehead against the cold wood.

“What a crazy man... what just happened?” she whispered, lying down on the bed with trembling hands. She knew she couldn’t use her cellphone or try to reach anyone outside—but she had no idea why.

She fell asleep a few minutes later, but kept waking up every few seconds, afraid Andrews would storm into her room and grab her like he always did. But he didn’t. The day began as if nothing had happened.

Aurora was awakened very early and could barely stand from sheer exhaustion. Andrews was there, standing at her bedroom door. The sight of him instantly jolted her awake, expecting another act of violence. He stared at the housekeeper, and she handed him a small piece of paper with something written on it, then looked at Aurora.

"Looks like all the staff got a few days off, so you’ll be the one handling the house chores—cleaning every room and preparing every single meal for Andrews."

Aurora didn’t argue. She just shrugged and walked away, stomping her foot to show indifference, though inside, her heart was pounding in her chest. How could he not remember anything?

The smell of fresh coffee began to fill the kitchen as Aurora moved efficiently. Despite her exhaustion, it was a simple task—but soaked with silent reproach.

She knew nothing she did would ever be good enough for him. Still, she followed the instructions, trying her hardest not to show frustration.

She toasted the bread and prepared a simple mix of scrambled eggs and bacon. Something light, something he—at least in theory—couldn’t complain about. She kept glancing at the clock as the food finished cooking. Her arms still ached from the previous days, but she didn’t dare stop. She knew any mistake, no matter how small, would just be another reason for him to torment her.

When she finally placed the plate in front of him, Andrews looked at the food with disdain. His eyes focused on the crispy bacon and golden eggs.

He gave it a disinterested glance before picking up the fork and tasting a bite. The movement was quick, like he didn’t want to waste too much time on it.

Aurora watched closely, her fingers clutching the tablecloth, waiting for a reaction. But soon, he spat out the piece of bacon in disgust, making a face of pure revulsion.

“This is crap. You can’t even cook a simple breakfast,” he sneered, pushing the plate aside, nearly knocking it off the table. “Throw it out. I’ll get food poisoning from this garbage.”

Without saying a word, she picked up the plate and took it to the sink, cleaning up what was left while he walked away into another room.

By midday, Aurora was still in the kitchen. Andrews had ordered her to cook again. This was the second meal of the day, and she was starting to feel too exhausted to keep going.

She tried to be quick and precise, but her lack of experience with some of the kitchenware caused her to burn herself when grabbing a hot pan. Andrews took a step forward, hesitating as if to help her—but stopped, returning to his place. She didn’t complain, hiding the pain.

She simply bit her lip and kept going with all her strength, though she knew nothing she did would be enough to satisfy him.

When she set the food on the table, still feeling the sting of the burn on her hand, she noticed Andrews' indifferent gaze—though he occasionally looked at the red mark on her pale skin. Even so, he seemed more impatient than ever.

He grabbed his fork, as if about to cut the first piece, and took a bite. His expression was full of distrust, while she stood there with forced anticipation. Moments later, he spat the bite out in anger, then stood up aggressively as if ready to attack her.

She backed up, pressing herself against the sink, eyes shut tightly, bracing for whatever came next.