Chapter 6 A look of surprise flashed across the maid’s face, but she quickly responded: “Yes, Mrs… I mean, yes, Miss Morgan.” It was probably the combination of last night’s drinking and Alex’s little interrogation that did me in. When I tried to leave the house, I realized I was feeling pretty rough. The restaurant prep was basically done anyway, so I just went back to bed. I woke up thirsty sometime later. Just as I opened my bedroom door to get some water, I heard someone mention my name: “It’s so pathetic. Does Ella really think we don’t know what’s going on? She specifically told you to stop calling her ‘Mrs. Winters‘–she knows the noveldramareal wife is back and she’s scared shitless.” “I heard that Miss Rockefeller is gorgeous and super smart. A guy like Mr. Winters obviously wants someone who can actually help him. Our little ‘trophy‘ here–what’s she got besides being prettier than average? Of course she’s freaking out!” Right. I’d forgotten the staff had their own sources of gossip. They knew everything–they just played dumb around me. I coughed softly before stepping out of my room. The group that had been huddled together immediately scattered, pretending to work. I headed to the kitchen to get some water when a voice came from behind me: “Miss Morgan, aren’t you feeling unwell? Just call us if you need anything–no need to trouble yourself coming out here.” That was definitely the one who’d called me scared. I smiled and politely declined her “kindness.” After drinking some water, I threw on some clothes and left the house. Walking down the street, breathing fresh air, I finally felt that tightness in my chest ease up. In my past life, under Candy’s “guidance,” I’d made every mistake possible. Forget what outsiders thought of me–even the household staff probably laughed at me behind my back. I didn’t confront them because honestly? They weren’t wrong. I really was pretty useless. Just some pretty toy Alex kept around to pass time while Victoria was abroad. Once I’d calmed down completely, I found myself at my restaurant. I was supposed to have cleaners come today, but I didn’t want to see anyone right now. So I grabbed some rags and started cleaning myself. Work a bit, rest a bit. By the end of the day, I’d managed to clean half the place. Exhausting, but incredibly satisfying. Looking at what would be my workspace for earning my own money, I actually teared up from happiness. Alex didn’t come home that night. According to my past life memories, Victoria should have twisted her ankle that day, and Alex stayed at the hospital with her. Without his breathing next to me, I tossed and turned for hours before falling asleep. Figuring the sooner I finished cleaning, the sooner I could open, I didn’t bother trying to sleep in. I headed out as soon as it got light. I was carrying breakfast I’d grabbed from a deli–coffee and a bagel–when I reached my restaurant and froze. The coffee cup slipped from my hands, splashing all over my shoes. The bagel hit the pavement. But I barely noticed. The restaurant’s floor–to–ceiling windows were either splattered with red paint or covered in nasty graffiti. The front door was half destroyed. Even from outside, I could see the interior had been completely trashed. Since it was still early, there weren’t many people around, but a few morning joggers stopped to stare and point. My hands shaking, I pulled out my phone to call Alex. This was the first time I’d contacted him since coming back. I tried three times–each call just rang and rang. I was panicking, completely lost. Finally, a passerby suggested I call the police.