Fresh off my wedding high, I moved into my husband’s family home — a place that seemed straight out of a fairy tale. It boasted high ceilings, arches, fountains, and flowers everywhere.George had wanted me to move in and settle down before we left for our honeymoon in the South of France.
But not everything was as it seemed. From day one, the maid, Valerie, gave me a look that screamed, “You don’t belong here.” I tried to shake it off; I was here to stay. Valerie was going to have to deal with that.
A few days into settling in, I decided to make breakfast for my new family. The house was huge, and George’s younger brother and sister still lived at home, so I prepared for a large spread.
Valerie stood in the kitchen with me, eyeing every move I made, while she wiped the countertops. She made me nervous. When I reached across the table to look for my phone — to look up different ways of making eggs — it wasn’t there.
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