HAZEL
Natasha was also a dead end. She didn’t like me, and she wasn’t subtle about it. That meant my only option was one of the maids, but not just any maid. One who had access. One who moved quietly between rooms, between people. Someone who heard things. Someone who saw things.
I needed an ally.
My gaze landed on one of the maids who had lifted her head just long enough to notice me and then, deliberately, had looked back down and continued with her work without alerting anyone else.
What was her name?
Amanda?
Amalie?
I couldn’t remember. But I did remember seeing her before. Angela seemed to like her. Whenever Angela couldn’t come to my room herself, or needed to send someone in her place, it was always her.
She was quiet. Observant. The kind of person who didn’t talk much, but
