PART 1 — LEAVE THE DISHES, CLARA
The crystal broke before Julian looked up from his phone.
One clear piece slid across the marble beside my hand and stopped against the drain.
I turned off the water.
“Leave it,” Julian said.
I looked at him over my shoulder.
“It is my hand.”
He kept scrolling.
“Then be careful with it.”
At the end of the island, Evelyn inspected the silverware one piece at a time.
She smoothed the front of her gown and moved a fork half an inch to the left.
“Clara, the dinner service is for eight,” she said.
“Not for someone who has decided to spend the evening at the sink.”
“I was asked to help.”
Julian straightened his cuff.
“You were asked to stay home.”
The small cut on my finger had left a single red mark on the white towel.
I folded the towel inward.
Not because the blood bothered me.
Because Evelyn would stare at it until somebody cleaned the stain.
“Stay home for what?”
“The gala.”
Julian finally put down his phone.
“I need you here tonight.”
“Why?”
He picked the phone up again.
“Because you do not have the presence I need beside me.”
Evelyn gave a soft cough.
Approval disguised as manners.
I dried the last plate and put it beside the others.
“Will you be home after the gala?”
Julian did not answer.
He checked his platinum watch.
I had given him that watch after his first major contract.
He had told me then that he wanted one good watch for the man he was becoming.