I fold my hands in front of me, trying to find meaning in all of this. Jared's plan to kill Bert has dread chasing me. I look over my shoulder, expecting to see something large and dark looming. Instead, the bedroom door opens and three women file in.
They wear the same uniforms—navy trousers, a white shirt, and a navy jacket. The ladies have their hair pinned back so severely that it stretches the smiles on their faces.
"Miss Masters, we are here to serve." The taller of the three steps forward, and her lips curl back over her teeth. Thoughts of a horse spring to mind. It's not a fair analysis of her looks, but I can't stop the
