Andrea George :
On the third day of silence, Andrea cracked.
It was stupid.
She knew it was.
She told herself she was just stretching her legs. Taking a break. Doing something useful. But the second she stepped into the back hallway that led to the maintenance wing, pretending to check for fresh produce delivery that never came, she knew exactly what she was doing.
Still, she walked slowly, deliberately, her sneakers silent against the polished concrete floor. The air was cooler back here, faintly metallic, the sterile scent of cleaning agents clinging to the walls.
Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, their dull flicker casting the space in a pale, almost sickly hue. The decorative warmth of the main house didn’t reach this far. This was the underbelly, the part of the estate that w
