Chapter 8

Though they looked and acted differently, the one thing they shared was a fondness for sweets. Suddenly, she recalled what her brother used to say often. Was this the right voice? The more she tried to remember, the more it faded. It had been quite a while since she last saw her brother. He had abandoned his family.

The moment her brother fell in love, he changed. He had been the one who was most proud of their grandfather being a key figure in the revolution. “I will live for my family.” “Family? To us, the revolutionaries are our family.” But he brushed off Sally’s attempts to dissuade him. “I won’t raise my children like our father. I won’t let my wife be like our father… Damn it…” “Are you in your right mind? No one was as great as our father.” The revolutionary army, which was like family, and the noble cause of creating a better world for everyone. In the end, her brother abandoned all of this and succumbed to the ugly reality. When his former comrades, once like family, called him a coward, it must have been painful for Sally alone.

She called him once a year, on the anniversary of her mother’s honorable death during a mission, hoping to change his mind. But her brother said he had no regrets. [I’m really happy now. Mother would be proud of me.] Was he being sincere? How could he be sincere? Moreover, her mother, who had dedicated her life to the revolution, would never be proud of a son who fled cowardly. [You should come out too. Let’s live together. Masa is counting the days until you can live with us.] No, that will never happen. Even if it means sacrificing my life like Mother, I won’t run away. The child Mother would truly be proud of is me.

Creak. The bed groaned again. Sally, who had been tossing and turning, suddenly froze. The sound of a man’s footsteps echoed from outside the door. ‘Who is it?’

At this late hour, a man visiting a maid’s room alone could not have pure intentions. If he needed something, he could just pull the bell cord in various parts of the annex to ring the bell. Sally reached under the mattress and grabbed a small revolver, checking to make sure it was loaded. The dull footsteps stopped in front of the door. As she pushed the magazine back in, the midnight visitor knocked on the door. “...Who is it?”

Pretending to have just woken up, Sally asked after a moment. She was slightly relieved that he had knocked. If he had turned the doorknob without knocking, it would have been clear that his intentions were not pure. “It’s me.”

‘It’s me?’ She sighed in exasperation. She already knew who it was by his voice. His arrogance in assuming she would know who he was without naming himself left no room for doubt. Sally glanced at the clock on the side table. It was well past midnight. What could bring him here at this hour?

“Oh, Captain. Please wait a moment.”

Though she spoke like a diligent maid, the action of tucking the revolver into the back of her pajama pants was that of a seasoned soldier. She approached the door and, before opening it, placed a small wooden wedge in front of it with her foot. She then composed herself and unlocked the door. “Captain, is there something you need?”

As she opened the door a crack, she carefully pushed the wedge under it with her foot. It would be invisible to Winston. If he stepped on it, even a muscular man would find it difficult to open the door. She held the doorknob with one hand and the revolver with the other. The narrow gap allowed little light from the corridor to enter, making it hard to see Winston’s face. His large silhouette filled the gap completely.

“Captain?”

He took a deep breath, paused, and then spoke. “...Hi, Sally.”

“Oh, yes. Hello. Are you back now?”

Pretending to have just woken up, she opened her eyes lazily and lowered her voice. “Yes.”

“You’re late. It seems you had a lot of work.”

“It was more boring than anything.”

“Oh... So you were in the study with Lieutenant Campbell...”

“Sally.”

“Yes?”

She was about to suggest he go to the billiard room, where other soldiers played at night, but Winston cut her off. His voice was heavier than when he had greeted her casually. Sally pressed her foot on the wedge and extended her index finger to the trigger of the revolver. “I’ve done my job, so you should do yours.”

The ominous pressure from his cryptic command seeped through the narrow gap and weighed on her. Sally slowly pulled the revolver from her waist. “What do you mean...?”

“I mean finish the cleaning you were doing.”

Her mind went blank. “...What?”

“Office.”

Sally swallowed a sigh of frustration. The revolver was tucked back into her waist. ‘What? Clean the office?’

She had always thought he was crazy, but had he really lost it? She stared blankly at the indistinct silhouette and took a deep breath. ‘Is he drunk, this lunatic?’

But there was no smell of alcohol.

To wake a maid in the middle of the night, especially well past midnight, and tell her to finish cleaning the office. The office wasn’t a pigsty; it was one of the places Sally cleaned most diligently, second only to the torture room. ‘It’s because of scum like you that we need to dismantle the class system.’

“Yes...”

As she answered with a reluctant tone, Winston pushed the door inward. The doorframe shook, but it didn’t budge. He seemed surprised and muttered, “...You’re strong.”

“Ha... Yes, I’m naturally... Thank you.”

“Come out.”

“I’ll just change my clothes and come down, Captain.”

As she tried to close the door, Winston prevented it from moving. He stood silently, holding the doorknob from the outside. She could feel his gaze, even if she couldn’t see his expression. The thin fabric of her pajamas made her skin tingle. He was looking her over.

Filthy pervert.

Since she had already said she would come down, she had no excuse to suddenly say she couldn’t. Should she force Lieutenant Campbell to sit and take sleeping pills just in case? If anything strange happened, she would put the sleeping pills in the soda he drank.

“Captain?”

“...Yes. Go ahead and go down first.”

As soon as Winston released the doorknob, Sally closed and locked the door. It took a while for the sound of his footsteps to fade away.

‘Damn it! I’ll call Jimmy tomorrow.’

The difficult day wasn’t over yet.

“Ah...”

As soon as Sally entered the office with her cleaning supplies, she let out a dazed sigh. The office was indeed a mess, almost as bad as a pigsty.

Between the desk and the coffee table, a large black stain marred the red carpet. Was it kind of him not to ask what the stain was? A single ink bottle still lay overturned on the spot.

Crazy kid.

The crazy kid was sitting behind the desk, smoking a cigar. Whether he had some ulterior motive or was just taking out his frustrations on an innocent maid, she couldn’t tell.

“You’re here? You said you’d just change your clothes, but it took a while.”

If he were a normal person, she might have been reassured by his cheerful smile. But he was the kind of man who could laugh while watching a prisoner being chased by a bloodthirsty military dog.

She had a bad feeling.

Before coming here, she had checked the study, but everyone seemed to have gone to bed. She considered waking Fred, who slept on the first floor, but decided against it, fearing the other soldiers sharing the room would find it suspicious.

So, she would have to use the sleeping pills.

Sally placed the bucket of cleaning supplies next to the stain and pretended to notice the desk. “Oh... I’m sorry. I’ll bring you something to drink right away.”

The desk should have had a bottle of soda and a glass that Winston always drank from. She hadn’t brought them back since taking the tray out earlier in the day.

“No, it’s not necessary.”

As soon as she turned, his words blocked her escape. “Come here.”

She turned to look at Winston. Their gazes met through the hazy smoke, and he beckoned her with a straight finger. Her steps toward the desk were cautious, as if walking on thin ice rather than the plush carpet. His intense gaze never left her, as if it could melt the ice. If she fell into his dark abyss, what kind of hell would be waiting for her?

When she reached the desk, Winston shook his head slightly. “What?”

“Over here.”

His finger pointed to his side. Her legs moved like a turtle’s, but her heart raced like a rabbit’s.