Chapter 44 Yes, Daddy
Elsie
I closed the gate softly behind me, careful not to make any noise. My heart was still racing. The night air clung to my skin, and my hands shook a little. Every sound seemed louder than usual—the chirping crickets, the rustle of the leaves, even my own breathing. I had done it. I had come back without anyone seeing me. Or so I thought.
As soon as I stepped into the corridor, I froze.
Mrs. Chavez was standing right there. Waiting.
Her arms were folded across her chest. Her eyes burned into me, sharp and cold. For a second, I couldn’t move. It was like my body turned to stone.
“Where are you coming from?” she asked, her voice quiet but heavy with anger.
I opened my mouth, but the words came out shaky. “I… I just went out for fresh air.”
Before I could blink, her hand gripped my hair and yanked me forward. Pain shot through my scalp, and I gasped.
“Do I look like a fool to you?” she hissed. “At this hour? For fresh air?”
“Please, Mrs. Chavez, I—”
“Quiet!” she barked. “I warned you. I told you to be careful. But no, you won’t listen. You walk around doing things you’re not supposed to do, sneaking out, forgetting your place. Well, congratulations. You’ve earned yourself a sack letter.”
My heart stopped. “What?”
“You heard me right,” she said, straightening her uniform. “You’re fired. Pack your things. Mr. Field will drive you out first thing in the morning.”
I stared at her, not believing what I was hearing. “Please,” I said, my voice trembling. “Mrs. Chavez, please. I can explain. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I swear.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” she said sharply. “You had your chance. You threw it away. Now pack up.”
Tears burned behind my eyes, but I blinked them back. “I can’t go. Please, don’t make me go,” I said. “I don’t have anywhere to go. I don’t have a family. I don’t have friends. This house… this is the only place I have.”
She looked at me, her expression unreadable. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of pity, but it vanished as quickly as it came.
“You should have thought of that before doing whatever it is you’ve been doing,” she said coldly. “You’re even lucky you’re walking out free. Now go pack.”
She turned and walked away. I stood there for a few seconds, unable to move. It felt like the ground had disappeared beneath my feet.
When I finally walked back to my room, everything looked different. The walls, the bed, the small table where I kept my things—it all felt empty now. I sank to my knees beside my small suitcase and pressed my hands against my face.
I couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning when all the staff were always awake. I didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for me for being sacked.
“I failed,” I whispered to myself. “I failed.”
All this time, I had told myself I was strong enough to do this. To stay here, to find the truth, to get justice for Clarita. But now I was leaving with nothing. No proof. No answers.
I reached under my pillow and pulled out the small photo of my sister. The edges were worn, and her smile stared back at me like she was still here. I traced her face with my fingers. “I’m sorry, Clarita,” I whispered. “I promised I’d find out what happened to you, but I couldn’t even do that.”
Tears slipped down my cheeks, and I let them fall. “I got distracted. I forgot why I came here. I let my heart get in the way.”
I stared at the packed suitcase, the single bag that carried all that was left of me. The little dresses, the shoes, the few keepsakes I had. That was all. And yet, the thing that mattered most—the truth—was still locked somewhere in that house.
I wiped my tears, trying to steady my breath. “Not now,” I said softly. “I can’t leave. Not yet.”
But how was I supposed to stay when the order came directly from Mr. Lancaster?
I zipped the bag, the sound breaking the silence of the room. My heart ached. I stood, took one last look around, and walked out. My steps were slow, heavy. I tried to hold myself together, but every inch of me felt like breaking apart.
The corridor was quiet. Most of the lights were off, except for the one by the staircase. The house had never felt so big, so empty.
When I reached the main hall, a voice stopped me.
“Elsie?”
I turned. He was standing by the doorway, his shirt slightly loose, hair a little messy, eyes sharp but soft at the same time. His gaze dropped to the bag in my hand, then lifted back to my face.
“What’s going on?” he asked, walking closer.
“I’m leaving,” I said quietly. “Mrs. Chavez said I’m fired.”
He frowned. “Fired? For what?”
“I don’t know,” I said, trying to sound calm even though my throat felt tight. “She just said I’ve been doing things I’m not supposed to do.” I forced a small smile that didn’t last. “Maybe she’s right. Maybe I’ve stayed here long enough.”
Caleb’s jaw clenched. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Please,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t want to cause more trouble. I’ll be fine.”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Who said you were trouble?”
I looked down at my hands. “Everyone, I guess.”
For a long second, neither of us spoke. The house was silent except for the faint ticking of the clock in the hall. When I finally looked up, Caleb’s eyes were on me.
“You shouldn’t believe everything people say,” he said. “You’re one of the few who actually care about this house. I can see it. And if Mrs. Chavez has a problem, I’ll talk to her.”
“You don’t have to,” I said quickly. “It’s fine. I’ll manage.”
“I said you aren’t leaving.” He commanded, his voice a bit harsh. He looked like he was about to lose it. “Fuck!” He raked his fingers through his hair, “Don’t be stubborn. Get inside. It’s late.”
“I can’t. The order was from your father. Please don’t stop me.”
When I turned to leave, he moved fast. His hand caught my wrist, firm but not rough.
“Sir please,” I said, pulling. “Let me go. I don’t want any trouble.”
He didn’t answer, then his arm went around my waist, and before I could think, he lifted me clean off the ground. My bag fell on the floor.
“Sir!” I gasped, hitting his shoulder. “Put me down! Let me go! I said Let me—”
He said nothing. His steps were strong and steady as he carried me down the hallway. My fists beat against his back, my legs kicked, but he didn’t stop. My heart pounded so hard I thought he could hear it.
“Sir, please,” I said again, breathless now. “I can’t stay here. I’m not needed. You don’t understand—”
He opened the door to his room and stepped inside. He shut the door behind us and finally set me down, but his hand stayed on my arm.
“You’re acting too stubborn,” he said, his voice low and calm but edged with something deeper. “You’ve been misbehaving, and I’ve been overlooking it. I said you’re not going anywhere and I do not want to hear another word from you.”
I tried to speak, but the words tangled in my throat. “You can’t just—”
“Strip!” He commanded, cutting me off. He learned against the dresser, arms crossed. “ I told you not to say another word, but you failed… Strip Elsie and do not waste my fucking time.”