Chapter 10 Chapter 10: The Order She Keeps Him In
The next thing I knew I was greeted by Elara’s walk-in closet room as soon as I stepped inside. I closed the door behind me and stood there for a second, letting the silence settle.
“All right,” I murmured to myself, more for courage than anything else. “One thing at a time.” The racks of gowns loomed in front of me, endless rows of fabric and color, all waiting to be judged. I started with the evening gowns, sliding hangers along the rail and rearranging them from dark to light, just like she wanted.
“Black, navy, emerald… no, not there,” I muttered, shifting one dress an inch to the left. “She’ll see that.”
As I steamed the silk gowns again, even the ones already perfect, I could almost hear Elara’s voice in my head.
’’Wrinkles mean carelessness, Sera.’’ I smoothed a sleeve carefully and sighed.
“You wore this once,” I whispered to the dress. “Once.”
But rules were rules. When I finished the gowns, I moved on to the cocktail dresses, separating them neatly.
“Short ones here. Don’t mix them,” I told myself, adjusting the spacing until every hanger matched. My foot throbbed, but I ignored it. Complaining never changed anything.
I knelt to work on the heels next, pulling each pair out and lining them up across the floor. “Nude shades together,” I said softly. “Black ones… here.” I wiped the soles clean and polished the leather until it shined.
When I spotted a scuffed heel, I frowned. “She’s definitely going to notice this,” I muttered, setting it aside to fix properly. Paired by pair, I matched them to gowns in my head, making sure nothing was out of place. “Perfect,” I said quietly when the shelf was finally full again.
The jewelry took the longest. I carried the trays to the vanity and laid them out carefully.
“Diamonds first,” I whispered, opening the cases one by one. I cleaned each piece and placed it so it caught the light just right. When a necklace tangled, I held my breath.
“Please don’t break,” I murmured, slowly working it loose. “I don’t need that today.” The emerald set went in the center, exactly as she’d ordered. I stepped back, tilted my head, then adjusted it slightly. “Centered. Always centered.”
When everything was finally done, I stood in the middle of the closet and looked around. The gowns flowed perfectly by color, the heels lined up like soldiers, the jewelry gleaming under the lights. “This should keep her calm,” I said under my breath, though I didn’t believe it. Elara was never calm for long. I wiped my hands, took a steady breath, and turned toward the door. The list wasn’t finished yet.
I stepped out of the walk-in closet and into Elara’s bedroom, the air shifting the moment I crossed the threshold. I grabbed a clean cloth and started with the surfaces, wiping the dresser, the vanity, the shelves—slow, careful movements.
“Don’t rush,” I reminded myself quietly. “She’ll know.” The scent of her perfume still lingered in the air, sharp and expensive, and it made my chest feel tight as I worked around it.
I moved toward the bed, straightening the pillows and smoothing the duvet until there wasn’t a single crease left.
“Perfect,” I whispered, stepping back to check from Elara’s angle. Then I turned to the bedside table, dusting around the lamp and the stack of books she never actually read. My hand brushed against a photo frame as I wiped beneath it, and I paused. “Sorry,” I murmured automatically, I lifted the photo frame and found myself staring at it longer than I meant to. Auren’s face was too familiar now, no longer just a name spoken behind doors. My mind betrayed me, pulling up the memory I’d been trying to bury—the sharp crack of my hand against his cheek, the brief flash of shock in his eyes, the stunned silence that followed. My fingers tightened around the frame.
“I slapped you,” I whispered, disbelief threading through my thoughts. “And you still looked at me like that.” The contrast between the confident man I’d struck and the younger version frozen in the photo made my chest ache in a way I didn’t understand.
I shook my head hard, as if that could dislodge the memory.
“This isn’t the time,” I muttered, glancing around the room as though Elara might walk in at any second. I wiped the glass quickly, my movements suddenly rushed, and placed the frame back exactly where I’d found it. Not a fraction off. Not turned even slightly. I stepped back and checked it twice before letting out the breath I’d been holding.
For a moment, I just stood there, hands trembling faintly at my sides. The image of Auren’s face—both in the photo and in my memory—refused to leave.
“Focus, Sera,” I told myself firmly. “Finish the work.” I turned away from the bedside table and forced myself back into motion, dusting the rest of the surfaces with renewed speed. Shelves, mirrors, the edges of the headboard—nothing was spared. If I kept moving, I didn’t have to think.
I changed the bed linens next, pulling the sheets tight and tucking the corners so sharply they could have cut paper. I vacuumed the carpet twice, just like the message demanded, making slow, even lines so no marks were left behind. When I passed the vanity, I rearranged the drawers, discarding anything that didn’t belong, aligning bottles and brushes until they sat perfectly straight. The room began to look untouched again, like no one had ever disturbed it.
As I worked, the silence pressed in, broken only by the low hum of machines and my own breathing. I checked the curtains, adjusting them until the light filtered in exactly right—not too harsh, not too dim. I sprayed the room lightly with her preferred scent, careful not to overdo it.
“Not too floral,” I reminded myself, setting the bottle down.
When there was nothing left to fix, I finally allowed myself to check the time. I pulled out my phone and squinted at the small screen. 4:11 p.m. Relief washed through me so suddenly my knees felt weak. I’d done it. I’d finished everything on the list. Slowly, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding all afternoon. “Thank God,” I whispered, closing the phone again.
Elara wasn’t back yet and that mattered more than anything. I took one last careful look around the room, scanning for any detail that might betray me. Everything was in place. Perfect. Exactly how she wanted it.
I wiped my hands on my skirt, and turned off the vacuum. I wheeled the vacuum cleaner out of Elara’s bedroom, careful not to let it bump against the doorframe. My arms ached as I dragged the machine toward the small storage closet near the corner, already thinking about finally sitting down for a moment.
“Almost done,” I murmured to myself, more hope than certainty. I opened the closet door with my foot and tried to angle the vacuum inside.
It didn’t fit the way it should have.
I frowned and tugged at it, shifting the handle, pushing the base farther in. The closet was narrow and overstuffed, shelves packed with cleaning supplies and boxes that no one had bothered to organize in years.
“Of course,” I muttered under my breath. “Now you decide to be difficult.” I tried again, harder this time, but when I reached to close the door, it stopped short, bouncing back open with a dull thud.
I sighed and leaned into it, pressing the door with my shoulder. It still wouldn’t close. “Don’t do this to me now,” I whispered, frustration creeping in. I adjusted the vacuum again, sweat starting to gather at my temples. I was just about to pull the vacuum back out and try a different angle when the door moved.
Not because of me.
A hand appeared suddenly on the edge of the door, pushing it inward with ease. The motion was so unexpected that I jumped, my heart slamming into my ribs. I turned sharply, breath catching in my throat. “I—” The words tangled and died before they could leave my mouth.