The clink of silverware echoed in the empty kitchen, a lonely soundtrack to Millie and Clara’s late breakfast. They slumped in their chairs, plates pushed halfway through.
“So, Mr. Jameson had you in the hot seat again?” Clara asked, stabbing a sausage.
Millie let out an exaggerated sigh. “Thanks to Andrea, of course.”
“So, she reported you again?”
Rolling her eyes, Millie’s grimace twisted her features. “Yep. Told him about the box I got last night.”
“The box Alfie mentioned?”
“Yes. He brought the box to me last night.” She gestured to her current outfit. ”And this whole thing came in that box. And obviously, the first thing Andrea did this morning when she woke up was tell Mr. Jameson.”
Clara scoffed. “That scheming… Millie, I swear she obsesses over your every move, just waiting
