Novel & Cerita Sherlock Holmes Housekeeper

And he’s not standing alone. “I’m glad you like your new home, Miss Dexter. This is Chiara,” He stands aside to introduce a blonde woman who’s around the same age as me. Chiara is grinning from ear to ear that I start wondering if her face doesn’t hurt. “She is my housekeeper and she will look after your every need while you’re here. Your bags will be brought up soon so you can settle in.” Because I’m still looking at Chiara and not him, I can see him in my periphery walk back to the elevator but he halts at the foyer, looking into his phone.

I gave a dry laugh, not believing the sight unfolding before me. "Jarvis, meet your new mum." I took a close look at her and felt chills. She didn't look like Barrett in any way. She stood perfectly still, staring at me with pale, empty eyes. She didn’t look like any child I had ever seen. Her gaze was as though she was the devil’s daughter. I didn't mind; she was just a child, and I walked up to her. "It's nice to meet you, Jarvis." I tapped her messy ginger hair. She looked so unkempt. What were the jobs of the housekeepers?

No matter what, since heaven had given me a second chance at life, I absolutely could not allow the tragedy of my previous life to repeat itself. I returned to the bedroom and began ordering small home surveillance cameras online. In my previous life, when Megan first came to work in our home as a housekeeper, I had wanted to install cameras, but Daniel felt it would be disrespectful to someone living under our roof. Thinking back on it now, it was precisely because of our kindness that we had walked step by step into her trap.

After bathing and washing my hair, I got dressed, dried my hair, and put on some lotion, which makes me nauseated, but I still wear them anyway because I ain’t no way I’ll be walking around dry and ashy as hell. Just as I was applying my lip gloss, I heard knocking on my door and a message ping. I check my text first……. My new housekeeper is here. Yeah… I finally got one. Thanks to Keisha. I slowly stood up from my vanity chair and walked carefully to the door. I opened it, and was met by a middle-aged woman probably in her early fifties, with dark hair, pale skin, and average height. “Miss Ann?”, I asked.

Then something moved. A shadow. Behind the door. And then— “AHHH!” I screamed as a figure stepped into view. A woman. Tall. Elegant. Wearing black. I stumbled back, heart in my throat. “W-Who the hell are you?!” She didn’t flinch. Just lifted a brow like I was the intruder. “I’m the housekeeper,” she said smoothly. Her voice had the softness of velvet, but her tone? Icy. “And you must be… the new Mrs. Blake.”

Seeing what he did to Sophia, and the fact that she was so young, made me sicker than I expected. The doorbell gonged through the house, clearly set loud enough to be heard on all floors, and the butler I’d learned was named Palmer hurried to open it. He’d been handling the domestic staff during these last few days, and he was the one I had to thank for the Mansion being as clean as it currently was. I got the sense cops could come through with a blacklight, and I’d be able to smile as I waved them away with no evidence. Palmer opened the door, had a quick conversation, and then led in a muscular woman with straw-colored hair I remembered from the Haven’s renovation over the summer.

After I returned home from traveling abroad, I found that our housekeeper had sued my husband and me. In court, she cradled her protruding belly and said with heart-wrenching anguish, "Gary and his wife are absolute scum! Under the guise of hiring a housekeeper, they lured me into their home, tied me to a bed, and abused me. "The child I'm carrying is Gary's!" Her mother, meanwhile, was sobbing uncontrollably. "Those two monsters have ruined my daughter's life. They deserve the death penalty!" No sooner had she spoken than a chorus of curses against my husband and me erupted from the gallery. "That scum is utterly brazen. He didn't even show up for the hearing! He must be punished sever

I opened the door and saw a woman in her forties or fifties. “Hi. You are—?” “I’m the housekeeper for the scheduled cleaning.” I nodded and stepped aside to let the housekeeper in. As I was sitting on the couch watching TV, suddenly, a scream came from upstairs. I rushed into the bedroom. The panicked housekeeper looked at me. Next to her feet was a broken photo frame. This was Bishop’s bedroom, so the framed photo— I guessed it was probably a photo of him and his mother when he was a child.

This place was home. I wandered down the hall, hearing low murmurs and laughter and the occasional gasp of, “Would you look at this bathroom?” I finally spotted Mrs. Greaves, the head housekeeper, standing just outside her suite. Her suitcase sat untouched beside her as she ran her fingers along the embroidered edge of the quilt like she was trying to convince herself it was real. “Everything alright?” I asked gently, stepping up behind her. She turned around fast, like she was caught doing something she shouldn’t, and blinked at me through watery eyes.

“Perfect.” “Don’t give me that look. Tee, what was that about? Me finally having a woman in my life?" Immediately we enter the study and the doors shut, I raise the question. “I didn't know she was your housekeeper; I wouldn't have made such a remark. She is very attractive and has a great sense of style and humour as well." “And all these you've discovered in the few minutes you arrived? I need to change the door lock combination." “Don’t you like your new housekeeper?"