But he didn’t.
Instead, he stared straight at the floor, hands back in his pockets. His eyes locked on something.
I followed his gaze and froze.
The scratch. The one the ladder made.
“M-Master, I-It was just—”
“PENELOPE!”
His voice boomed so loud it probably scared the neighborhood dogs. I nearly dropped the mop and clung to the handle like it was a lifeline.
Miss Pen came running in with a bunch of sheets, looking like she just got called to the principal’s office.
“Master? What happened?”
“Get Mang Randy. Fix this mess she made,” he growled, pointing at the tile like I burned the Mona Lisa.
“Y-Yes, Master.”
Miss Pen gave me a quick glare. I stared at the floor like it had the answers to life’s problems.
“And drag her out of this place. NOW!”
He didn’t even wait for a respons
