Chapter 2 - The Name Buried Under Ashes
Cordelia did not sleep that night.
She lay beside Augustine in the master bedroom while rain tapped lightly against the tall windows. Augustine had his back to her, one arm beneath his head, breathing steadily.
He appeared asleep.
Cordelia knew better.
“You knew,” she whispered.
Augustine opened his eyes.
“Knew what?”
“About her.”
He did not turn around.
“You’ll need to be more specific.”
Cordelia’s mouth tightened.
“The maid.”
There was a pause.
“The one you never look at.”
That got his attention.
Augustine turned his head slightly.
“You spend too much time watching people you consider invisible.”
“I know who she is.”
Augustine sat up.
The room changed immediately.
Cordelia felt it before he spoke.
“What do you think you know?”
She showed him the report.
He read it once.
Then again.
His face gave away nothing.
Cordelia smiled, but the confidence in that smile was fading.
“Interesting, isn’t it?”
“No.”
“She was military.”
“So are thousands of people.”
“She trained soldiers.”
“That still doesn't explain your interest.”
Cordelia leaned toward him.
“She may have been part of a protection team used for sensitive operations.”
Augustine held the paper between two fingers.
“Where did you get this?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
Her smile returned.
“I wanted to know what sort of woman had been living under your roof.”
“She’s worked here for fourteen months.”
“And you never wondered?”
“I knew enough.”
Cordelia stared at him.
“You knew?”
Augustine stood.
“That is the end of this conversation.”
“You’re protecting her.”
“No.”
“Then why do you look angry?”
His expression hardened.
“Because you are confusing curiosity with entitlement.”
Cordelia laughed softly.
“You really are serious.”
Augustine walked toward the window.
“If you have hired someone to investigate my staff, fire them.”
“Already done.”
He turned.
“Good.”
Cordelia tucked the paper into her robe.
“But I still know her secret.”
“Do you?”
That stopped her.
Something cold passed through her stomach.
Augustine’s eyes were not on the report anymore.
They were on her.
“You found a name,” he said. “You have no idea what it means.”
Cordelia tilted her chin.
“Then tell me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you don't need to know.”
That answer frightened her more than anger would have.
The next morning, Mave arrived in the kitchen at 5:15.
Everything appeared normal.
Except Augustine was already there.
He sat at the table with a mug untouched in front of him.
Mave stopped in the doorway.
“You’re early.”
“I didn’t sleep.”
She studied him.
“Neither did you.”
“No.”
She started the coffee.
Augustine watched her hands.
“Your name isn't Callahan.”
The spoon in her hand stopped.
The room became very quiet.
Mave did not turn around.
“People change names.”
“People do.”
“Are you asking?”
“I’m telling you I know.”
She slowly faced him.
For fourteen months, Augustine had deliberately made the kitchen into a neutral territory.
Now, for the first time, he had crossed its invisible line.
Mave’s expression did not change.
“What do you know?”
“Enough to understand why you prefer long sleeves.”
Her eyes dropped to her wrist.
Then came the answer she had feared.
“Maeve Callan.”
Augustine said it quietly.
Not Mave.
Maeve.
The old name.
The name she had buried with her uniform.
She looked at him for several seconds.
Then she pulled out a chair.
“I'll resign.”
“No.”
“You can't keep someone whose identity you know.”
“I can keep whoever I want.”
“That isn't the issue.”
“Then tell me the issue.”
Her voice became smaller.
“You know what happened?”
“I know parts.”
“Do you know why?”
“No.”
She looked toward the windows.
“You don't want to know.”
“I do.”
“You shouldn't.”
Augustine waited.
Mave rubbed her thumb against the edge of the coffee mug.
“My husband was killed overseas.”
She paused.
“My daughter was born after my first deployment. I had her after I returned. Her name was Juny.”
Augustine lowered his gaze.
“I saw her again after she was gone.”
Mave swallowed.
“At the hospital.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
He frowned.
“Don’t say sorry.”
“Why?”
“Because people say it when they don't know what else to say.”
Augustine nodded.
“That’s fair.”
She looked at him.
He had no idea what her grief looked like because she had trained herself to keep it behind her teeth.
Then footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Mave immediately stood.
Cordelia entered.
She stopped when she saw them.
Her eyes narrowed.
“What are you doing here?”
Mave looked at her.
“Making breakfast.”
Cordelia rolled her eyes.
“Of course.”
Then she noticed the untouched cup in front of Augustine.
“You haven't had your coffee?”
“I’m about to.”
Cordelia reached for the cup.
Mave intercepted it.
Not dramatically.
Not violently.
Just quickly.
Cordelia stared.
Mave placed the cup down again.
“He likes it hot.”
Cordelia's mouth opened.
Augustine spoke before she could answer.
“She’s right.”
That simple sentence shifted something.
Cordelia looked from him to Mave.
For the first time, she appeared to understand that Mave wasn't merely tolerated.
She mattered.
That afternoon, Cordelia deliberately sent Mave into the formal salon where a dozen guests had gathered.
A charity committee from Newport had arrived.
Mave carried a tray.
One of the women looked her up and down.
“How charming,” she said. “Does Ashgrove have a uniform now?”
Laughter followed.
Mave lowered her head.
Another woman leaned toward Cordelia.
“Where did you find her?”
“Providence,” Cordelia answered. “She was practically invisible when we hired her.”
More laughter.
Mave set down the champagne glasses.
Someone bumped her shoulder.
The tray tilted.
Before a single glass could fall, Mave caught every one of them.
Not one clinked.
The room fell silent.
The woman who had bumped her stared.
Mave steadied the tray and continued walking.
Azie saw the entire thing from the doorway.
He and Mave exchanged a glance.
Again, neither spoke.
That night, Cordelia followed Mave.
She watched her leave the service corridor after midnight and walk toward the old greenhouse.
Azie was there.
Mave handed him an envelope.
Cordelia hid behind the wall.
“I can't keep doing this,” Mave said.
Azie replied quietly.
“You don't have to.”
“I promised.”
“You promised the child.”
Mave stiffened.
Cordelia's eyes widened.
The child.
Azie continued.
“You were there when the convoy went down.”
“I was there before it went down.”
He looked at her.
“And you think hiding in this house will make what happened disappear?”
“No.”
“Then why are you still hiding?”
Mave looked toward the mansion.
“Because every time I remember that night, I remember I failed.”
Azie shook his head.
“You survived.”
“I wasn't the one who needed to survive.”
Cordelia stepped backward.
Her heel struck a loose stone.
Both Mave and Azie turned.
Cordelia ran.
Mave immediately moved after her.
But Azie grabbed her arm.
“No.”
“She heard.”
“She heard enough to become dangerous. That's different.”
Mave stared after Cordelia.
“What did she hear?”
Azie’s face tightened.
“About Juny.”
Mave froze.
“She cannot know about Juny.”
Azie held her gaze.
“Then you need to find out what she already knows.”
The next morning, Cordelia gave Mave an order.
“You're coming with me.”
“Where?”
“To the city.”
Mave hesitated.
“My duties—”
“Wendell can handle them.”
Mave looked toward the staircase.
Augustine was standing there.
He had heard.
“Where are you taking her?”
Cordelia smiled.
“Shopping.”
Augustine said nothing.
Cordelia placed a hand on Mave's shoulder.
“Unless my fiancé has suddenly decided his maid needs permission to leave the house.”
Augustine’s jaw tightened.
“Take the driver.”
“I planned to.”
Mave followed Cordelia into the car.
As the gate of Ashgrove opened, Mave looked at the rearview mirror.
A black sedan was parked across the road.
A man inside was watching the estate.
The driver noticed her looking.
“Friend of yours?”
“No.”
The man inside lifted a phone.
Mave immediately recognized the posture.
Surveillance.
The car was not there for Cordelia.
It was there for her.
The moment she realized that, she stopped being afraid.
Because fear had always been most dangerous when she didn't know where it was coming from.
Now she did.
Someone had found her.
May you like
And someone had known she was alive.
The only question was why they had waited fourteen months to come for her.
