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The Housemaid(89)

Author:Freida McFadden

“Andrew, I mean it. I really have to go to the bathroom.”

“I just told you what you can do.”

He isn’t giving in. I don’t understand what’s going on here. Nina was always the crazy one. Andrew was the one who was reasonable, who saved me when Nina was accusing me of stealing her clothes.

Are they both crazy? Are they both in on this?

“Fine.” Let’s just get this over with. I sit down on the ground and pick up one of the books so he can hear it. “All right, I’ve got the books on top of me. Can you let me out now?”

“You don’t have the books on top of you.”

“Yes, I do. “

“Don’t lie.”

I let out a huff of exasperation. “How do you know whether I’m lying or not?”

“Because I can see you.”

My spine turns to liquid. He can see me? My gaze darts from wall to wall, searching for a camera. How long has he been watching me? Has he been spying on me the entire time I’ve been here?

“You’re not going to find it,” he says. “It’s well hidden. And don’t worry, I haven’t been watching you all along. Only since a few weeks ago.”

I scramble to my feet. “What the hell is your problem? You need to let me out right now.”

“Here’s the thing,” Andrew says calmly. “I don’t think you’re in any position to be making demands.”

I lunge at the door. I pound my fists against the wood, hard enough to make my hands red and sore. “I swear to God, you better let me out of here! This isn’t funny!”

“Hey. Hey.” Andrew’s calm voice interrupts my pounding. “Settle down. Look, I’m going to let you out. I promise.”

I let my arms drop to my sides. My fists are throbbing. “Thank you.”

“Just not yet.”

Heat rises in my cheeks. “Andrew…”

“I told you what you need to do to get out,” he says. “This is an extremely fair punishment for what you did.”

I press my lips together, too angry to even respond.

“Why don’t I give you a little while to think about it, Millie? I’ll come back later.”

I swear to God, I still believe he’s got to be joking until his footsteps disappear down the hallway.

FIFTY-TWO

MILLIE

It’s been an hour since Andrew was here.

I used the bucket. I don’t want to talk about it. But it got to a point where if I didn’t use the bucket, I was going to have pee running down my legs. It was an interesting experience, to say the least.

After I got that need taken care of, my stomach started rumbling. I checked the mini-fridge, where I usually keep a couple of snacks like yogurt. But somehow, it had been emptied in the last few days. The only thing left in there was three of those mini bottles of water. I chugged the contents of two of the bottles, although immediately after, I regretted it. What if he leaves me here for several more hours? Or days? I might need that water.

I throw on my jeans and a fresh T-shirt, then I examine the pile of books on the floor. Andrew said he wanted me to keep those books resting on my belly for three hours and then he would let me out of the room. I don’t quite understand the purpose of this ridiculous game, but maybe I should just do it. Then he’ll let me out and I can get the hell out of here forever.

I stretch out on the uncarpeted floor. It’s the beginning of summer, which means the attic is unbearably stuffy, but the floor is still cool. I rest my head against the ground and pick up the book on prisons. It’s a thick textbook that has got to weigh several pounds. I lower it onto my belly.

It’s pressure, but not exactly uncomfortable. If I had done this before my trip to the bucket, I would probably have peed my pants by now. But this isn’t so bad. Then I pick up the second book.

This is the one on torture. I suppose the title of this textbook isn’t entirely a coincidence. Or maybe it is. Who knows?

I lower the second book onto my belly. This time the pressure becomes more uncomfortable. The books are heavy. And the protuberance of my scapula and my tailbone bite into the hard, uncarpeted floor. This isn’t enjoyable, but it’s tolerable.

But he wanted all three books.

I pick up the final book—the phonebook. This one is not only heavy, but bulky. It’s hard to even lift it with two other books already on top of me. It takes a couple of tries, but I manage to get the phonebook balanced on my abdomen.

The weight of all three books almost takes my breath away. Two was doable, but three is awful. This is very, very uncomfortable. It’s hard to take a deep breath. And the edge of the bottom book bites into my rib cage.

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