Chapter 2
The sheer physical exertion was too much for a five-year-old child. Thora’s breathing grew ragged as she reached the far side of the massive dining table. The silver tray felt like it was filled with lead. She had been on her feet for six hours, ordered to clean the baseboards before the party even began.
As she approached the last guest, her small legs finally gave out. Thora stumbled, managing to balance the heavy tray on the edge of the mahogany table just in time to avoid a catastrophic spill. Desperate for just one moment of rest, her tear-filled eyes spotted an empty, velvet-lined dining chair tucked between two oblivious guests.
Slowly, quietly, Thora tried to slide onto the edge of the cushioned seat.
She didn't even make it halfway down.
Heloise moved with the terrifying speed of a striking viper. She lunged out of her seat at the head of the table, her expensive heels clicking violently against the hardwood. Her manicured hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of the stiff fabric at the back of Thora’s maid outfit.
"What do you think you are doing?" Heloise hissed, her voice slicing through the polite dinner conversation like a razor blade.
With a violent, merciless yank, Heloise hauled the five-year-old girl backward. Thora’s feet flew out from under her, and she dangled in the air for a fraction of a second before Heloise spun her around.
Smack.
The sound of the slap was sickeningly loud, echoing off the high, vaulted ceilings. Heloise’s open palm struck Thora directly across the face. The little girl’s head snapped to the side, her fair, rosy skin instantly blooming with an angry, dark red welt.
Thora let out a sharp, breathless gasp, stumbling backward. She didn't fall to the ground, only because Heloise forcefully shoved the heavy silver serving tray back into the child’s small, shaking arms, using the metal to push her back.
"Look at me when I am speaking to you," Heloise demanded, her chest heaving with cold, unadulterated fury.
Thora looked up, tears spilling freely over her burning cheek. "I... I was just so tired. My legs hurt."
"I do not care if your legs fall off," Heloise sneered, her beautiful face twisted into an ugly mask of vicious contempt. She pointed a perfectly manicured finger directly at the child's tear-streaked face.
The surrounding guests fell into a stunned, uncomfortable silence, but not a single white-collar executive or elegant socialite moved to intervene. They simply watched, complicit in their silence, as Heloise leaned down to look the five-year-old in the eyes.
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"Servants don’t sit with family," Heloise said, her tone cold and venomous. "You stand until the last plate is cleared. Now get back to the kitchen before I find a belt."
Thora choked on a sob, clutching the heavy silver tray to her chest as the room spun around her in a blur of bright, suffocating colors.
