Chapter 7 The key

Maya's POV

I walked back into the kitchen and leaned against the counter. The same maid from earlier was there, busying herself with the dishes. She looked at me and then quickly looked away, as if she still wasn't sure what to do with me.

"Hi."

She gave me a small smile. "Hello, ma'am."

"I'm sorry. I'm just bored. I've been locked in that room for almost four hours." I chuckled. She smiled too, looking a little less tense.

"I didn't get your name earlier."

"Mia, ma'am."

"Oh cool.." I smiled. " And please, just call me Maya. I'm a prisoner in this place, after all."

She giggled under her breath. "Okay."

"How long have you worked here?"

"About four years."

Four years….Good, that's long enough to know the house, the staff and probably most of the routines.

Before I could ask anything else, she pulled a tray from the oven. The smell reached me before she even set it down.

"What is that?"

"Chicken pie."

I leaned closer, looking at the golden crust. "That smells really good."

"Thank you." She smiled, a little shyly, and began arranging the pieces on a plate.

I glanced around the kitchen, letting my eyes move over the shelves and counters without making it obvious that I was studying anything. "Who handles the groceries here?"

Her eyebrows lifted.

I laughed lightly. "No, I mean that." I pointed toward a satchet on the counter. "I use that at home. Whoever handles the groceries has a great taste."

She picked up the satchet and looked at it. "Oh, this? Mrs. Sylvia handles most of the kitchen supplies. She makes the menus too."

"She must be good at it."

"She is….She knows exactly what Mr. Lockwood likes."

I nodded, taking another look around. "So she buys everything herself?"

"No….Amaya handles the groceries."

I kept my face relaxed. "Amaya?"

"Her assistant, she usually goes out for groceries and whatever else the house needs."

"Really?" I nodded, acting interested

"Yes."

I reached for the cup she had just placed beside the coffee machine. "Can I get some coffee?"

"Of course, ma'am."

"Maya." I corrected.

She smiled. "Right…Maya."

She started the machine while I watched. My mind was already working through what she'd told me. An assistant…someone who left the estate. Someone the guards were used to seeing come and go.

That was the first useful thing I'd heard since I arrived.

I hesitated for a second, letting my eyes drift to the hallway outside the kitchen. "Does anyone ever question what comes in and out of here?"

Her hands paused on the counter. "Not really," she said slowly. "As long as it’s on Mrs. Sylvia’s list, the guards don’t stop it."

I nodded once, as if it meant nothing. "Good to know," I said softly.

The coffee machine clicked softly as it finished. She handed me the cup, and I took a sip. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

I started toward the door, then stopped and turned back. "One more thing."

She looked up.

"Could you ask the housekeeper to come to my room?"

"Sure." She nodded with a small smile.

"Thanks." I smiled back, walking away with the coffee still warm in my hand.

I had no idea who Amaya was, but she seems to be my best chance. I had to be gone by tonight.

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I sat on the edge of the bed with my coffee balanced on my lap, tapping one finger against the cup while I waited.

I had been staring at the door for so long that the sound of three soft knocks made me straighten.

"Come in." I said, almost immediately.

The door opened, and a woman in her thirties stepped inside. She gave me a small bow. "Miss Maya? I'm the housekeeper. You sent it to me?"

I took another sip of my coffee. What's with all these people? Is this really how they treat their captives?

"Yeah, I have some clothes that need washing."

Her eyes moved briefly around the room before returning to me.

“Don't worry, it's only a few, just 3 clothes.”

I know she'll probably be wondering how I used up three clothes in one night but she wouldn't ask.

"I would've washed them myself, but I don't exactly have access to a washing machine."

She gave a polite smile. "Of course, miss."

I got up and walked over to the closet. I'd already picked out three pieces of clothing earlier and left them in a small pile. "These."

She came closer to collect them.

I turned back toward the bed, still holding my coffee, then I let the cup slip. It hit the floor, shattering across the room. "Oh, God….I'm sorry."

She immediately bent down. "It's all right, miss. Don't move."

"I'll help." I crouched beside her before she could stop me, reaching for one of the larger pieces.

A sharp piece caught my pinky. "Ouch." I hissed in pain.

She looked up immediately. "Maam, are you hurt?"

I pulled my hand back and looked at the tiny cut. "I'm fine, it's nothing serious, just a little cut…I've had worse."

She reached for my hand anyway, checking the finger. "Please leave it. I'll clean this up."

"I'm fine." I gave her a reassuring smile. "Just take the clothes, I'll ask Mia to deal with the mess."

She hesitated, but eventually gathered the clothes into her arms. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

She nodded and walked toward the door.

I waited until it closed behind her before looking down at my hand then…I smiled.

Slowly, I opened my palm. A small silver key rested against my skin. I'd taken it from the pouch at her waist while we were both reaching for the broken pieces.

I turned it between my fingers, studying its shape.

I grinned. “Step two completed.”

I slipped it beneath my pillow and leaned back against the headboard.