Maggie, the head cook, glared at me from the corner of her eye, a sneer tugging at her lips.
But the bowl of rice in her hand made my empty stomach cramp with sharp, stabbing pain.
I tried to speak up, but another maid came over, pinching her nose and carrying a half-full slop bucket. A wave of acrid, putrid stench hit me square in the face.
I stumbled back on instinct, only for a young servant to clamp his hands down hard on my shoulders, holding me fast.
Warm, filthied slop poured over me, blurring my vision in an instant.
"She actually thought Miss Thorne brought her back to feed and clothe her well," one voice snickered.
"As if anyone doesn't know Miss Thorne's not kind—she just wants to make her suffer worse."
"Besides, Miss Thorne said we'll get a fat reward as long as we run
