Mira and MaryJane smirk.
Benita glances at me, and I shake my head reassuringly
.
I meant what I said about winning this war. Even if the heavens were on Mira’s side today, I would win.
Martha assigns two maids to Mira and MaryJane as well, though it’s pointless. Even the blind can see MaryJane controls every maid here.
Martha turns to us and jingles a bell.
“Begin!” she orders.
We rush to our counters instantly.
She exits the kitchen.
“Light the stove,” I tell Benita.
She does.
“Put a pot of water on it.”
She hurries to do it.
MaryJane beckons to a maid and whispers something in her ear. The maid gasps, then walks over to the two assigned to me and relays whatever nonsense she was told.
They nod and return their gaze to me.
I pick up a pack of pasta and pretend to read the
