I used both hands and shoved him, shoved him so hard I stumbled a few feet backward into the hallway.
“Fine. I’ll ask West.”
His jaw twerked, and when he spoke, it was through clenched teeth. “Fine.”
Twenty-Five
GRAY
* * *
The sun hadn’t even cracked the horizon when I was heading out for work.
“You’re going in to work a lot,” Lottie’s sleepy voice called to me. “Are you going to be back before sundown tonight? It’s only a few weeks before Thanksgiving—”
“Will your brother make sure Story is ready for the holidays?” I asked the thing that had been sticking in my side like a thorn.
Lottie’s face dropped. She worked her mouth, before shaking her head. “No, I doubt he realizes what she needs to be prepared for.”
I cursed.
She’d be eaten alive.
r /> “I’ll be out late,” I said.
I was in the foyer when a weak voice stopped me.
“Mr. Crowne.”
It was a servant with blonde hair and brown eyes. Before Story, I would have had her fired for even daring to talk to me, let alone look me in the eyes. But I paused.
She looked away.
“If anyone finds out I did this…I don’t think how they’re treating Story is right.”
That piqued my interest, and I joined her in the shadowy corner.
“You should know,” she said quietly, “that a few months ago, a servant named Ellie stole a picture when she came to dress Miss Hale. I heard she sold it to a newspaper.”
I quirked my jaw. “What picture?”
“I—” She looked over her shoulder. “I don’t know. They said she made her sign something. But she said it’s coming out tomorrow. Please don’t tell anyone I told you. If anyone finds out…I’ll be like Story.”
Before I could ask any more questions, the woman dashed off, running down into the servants’ quarters.
I should have gone into work, but I spent the morning calling every outlet I knew, until I found it. The one about to decimate her.
It was mine.
It was my fucking secret.
The headline was a photo of Snitch with the title The Real Cinderella Killed Her Mother. She held the photo I’d taken of her, the green ink fresh next to her stony glare.
When my mom died, I wasn’t sad. I was relieved.
This place wasn’t safe anymore. The walls I’d built had eroded. I had enemies on all sides, and they were going after Snitch.
If Story wouldn’t let me take care of her, I would do it secretly. Our love is a precious thing. Only safe in the dark. In the cracks. In the places people cannot reach and harm.