UNTIL HE REMEMBERS ME

Chapter 14

Isabella picked up her bucket and walked toward the bathroom.

Before it was her turn, a young woman approached her with a strange, half-hostile look.

"Hello, are you Isabella?" the girl asked, her tone sharp enough to slice through the morning calm.

"Yeah," Isabella replied, forcing a polite smile that clearly said please be quick and go. "What do you need?"

"Oh, so you're the new bed warmer," the lady sneered, crossing her arms.

"Are you… Dummia?" Isabella asked casually, pretending to search her memory as though she'd forgotten the girl's name.

The lady froze, caught off guard.

"What do you mean? I'm Rosella!" she snapped, her face turning red with anger.

"Oh, right," Isabella said smoothly, now holding the upper hand. "So, Rosella, what do you want?"

Rosella hissed. "Miss Helena seeks your presence in her room." She spun on her heel and stormed off without waiting for a reply.

Isabella stood still for a moment, torn between taking her bath or meeting Helena first. After a short sigh, she decided it was better to get it over with.

She placed her bucket of water to the side and began walking toward Helena's room, her footsteps echoing softly down the corridor, each one heavier than the last.

As Isabella reached Helena's quarters, a sharp smack echoed through the hallway.

She froze. The sting burned across her cheek before she even realized what had happened.

"Why are you just getting here?" Marina barked, her voice dripping with arrogance. "Don't you know you were supposed to prepare Madam Helena's bath?"

Isabella blinked, stunned. She hadn't expected physical violence, not this early in the morning.

Slowly, she raised her face, her gaze locking with Marina's.

"Get out of my way," Isabella said evenly, her jaw tight. "I'm here for Miss Helena, not you."

Marina let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Are you trying to intimidate me?" she sneered. "What can a loser like you possibly do?" She laughed again, clutching her stomach in amusement.

Isabella stared at her for a long, cold second, then exhaled through her nose, a hiss of restrained anger, and stepped past her without another word.

Inside, Clara was crouched near Helena, carefully cleaning her feet in preparation for a new pedicure.

Isabella's eyes flicked over the trio, Helena seated like royalty, Marina smirking behind her, Clara pretending to focus. The sight churned something deep in her chest.

Helena stood up slowly, her robe trailing behind her as she circled Isabella like a predator savoring its prey.

"The madam of the house is here," Helena said mockingly, voice low and venomous. "All hail the queen."

Clara snickered, then gave Isabella a shove, forcing her to her knees.

"Just apologize and get it over with," Clara said coldly.

Isabella stayed down but refused to bow her head. Her fists were clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white.

They could mock her, slap her, even force her to kneel, but the only people who could truly break her were Alex and her children.

The rest?

They were nothing.

Helena sneered, her lips curling with that familiar mix of mockery and venom.

"Thick skin, right? Anyway, I don't have any work for you. Just go take your bath, you stink."

She grabbed a perfume bottle from her table and tossed it at Isabella.

"Use this when you're done. Do the environment a favor."

The bottle hit Isabella's chest and dropped to the floor, rolling toward her feet.

Helena turned away like a queen dismissing a servant. Isabella stayed on her knees for a moment, not out of submission, but to control the wave of anger threatening to spill out.

What's all this rubbish about? she thought. Was Helena planning something again?

She picked up the perfume carefully, turning it in her hand. Something about it didn't sit right with her. The scent might be poisoned, spiked, or worse, part of some humiliating setup. She decided immediately: she wouldn't use it.

Without another word, Isabella left the room. She picked her bucket. The hallway felt unusually quiet.

She reached the bathroom, took her bath quickly, and tried to wash away not just the dirt, but the unease crawling under her skin.

When she got back to her room, she froze.

Ana was sitting on her bed, reading.

For a split second, Isabella was confused, until she recognized the cover in Ana's hands. Her diary. Her whole life, her memories, her fears, her secrets, laid open for someone else's eyes.

A sharp, furious instinct took over. Isabella stormed in, snatched the diary out of Ana's hands, and pointed it right at her face.

"What's your motive?" she snapped.

Ana jumped, startled by the sudden outburst.

"Uhn? Bella, are you okay?" she asked, clearly confused.

"I should ask you that! You can't tell the difference between personal and public items?" Isabella's voice trembled, not with weakness, but with anger she was barely containing.

Ana raised her hands in defense, her tone soft.

"Okay, chill, Bella. I just saw the cover, it looked so pretty, so I flipped it open. I haven't even read the first page, I swear."

Isabella searched Ana's face. She wanted to believe her, but doubt burned in her chest like acid.

"Better," Isabella muttered finally, exhaling sharply. Still, her gaze lingered on Ana longer than necessary. What if she was Helena's spy?

Her mood crashed immediately. Everyone around her, every smile, every kind gesture, now felt suspicious.

"Please, just… excuse me," Isabella said quietly, setting her diary aside as she began to get ready.

Ana, clearly awkward from the exchange, mumbled as she grabbed her apron.

"We're already late, you know. Suppose to be in the kitchen by seven-thirty… it:s almost eight."

Isabella didn't answer.

Her hands were steady as she tied her hair back, but her heart was anything but calm.

————

The kitchen was filled with the gentle clatter of pots and the low hiss of steam.

Isabella moved with quiet focus, stirring the pot, the aroma of the meal wrapping around her like fragile comfort. It was a simple dish, but she wanted it to be perfect.

After a while, Ana was called out by one of the other maids.

"Go, I'll finish up here," Isabella said softly, not lifting her eyes from the pot.

Ana hesitated. "Are you sure?"

Isabella nodded. "It's almost done. I can handle it."

Minutes passed. The kitchen was peaceful, just the rhythm of her stirring spoon and the faint bubbling sound from the pan.

Then, she heard it.

Giggles.

Light, airy, unmistakably childlike.

Her heart clenched instantly.

Could it be… them?

She froze for a second, her chest rising and falling sharply. The sound came again, sweet, innocent laughter echoing down the hallway.

Without thinking, she dropped the spoon and tiptoed toward the sound.

Just a glance, she told herself. I just want to see them. Just once.

Her hands trembled slightly as she moved closer to the doorway.

But before she could take another step, a strange smell hit her nose. Strong. Sharp. Foreign.

Her vision blurred almost immediately.

Someone's hand clamped over her mouth, a handkerchief pressed tightly against her face.

Her body jerked once, then her knees gave way. The world dimmed in seconds.

Isabella collapsed silently, her body caught before it hit the ground.

Marina's face appeared in the faint morning light, cold and focused. She looked around, making sure no one saw, before dragging Isabella's limp body out of the kitchen.

A few seconds later, a small head peeked from the corner.

Sophia.

She blinked, staring at the spot where the movement had just been.

"Is it my imagination?" she whispered.

Behind her, Lucas was completely absorbed, testing the toy gun one of the guards had given him.

Sophia took a hesitant step forward. The faint smell still lingered, and something about the silence made her uneasy.

Curiosity, or perhaps fate, led her further in.

She crossed the threshold and found herself standing in the kitchen.