Chapter 2 - Shadows Behind the MansionThe estate sat grand and imposing against the twilight sky, its windows blazing with golden light while aristocratic laughter drifted over the manicured hedges. Gertrude and my sister, Prudence, were clearly hosting another one of their exclusive society gatherings, surrounded by people who viewed wealth as an inherent birthright rather than a product of blistered hands and ruined backs.
Refusing to enter through the front and ruin the surprise, I walked around the perimeter toward the old service entrance near the rear kitchen. The immediate drop in atmosphere was jarring. Gone was the scent of expensive perfume and roasted meats; instead, the backyard smelled of damp concrete, rancid grease, and rotting waste.
Then, cutting through the muffled bass of the party inside, I heard a child whimpering.
"Mom… I’m hungry. I want the chicken from inside."
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A woman's voice replied, trembling and hollow. "Shhh, baby. Don’t make noise. If Grandma hears us, she’ll yell again. Eat this instead. I rinsed the spoiled rice so it won’t taste so sour."
My breath hitched in my throat. I crept closer to the cracked wooden doorway of the dark service kitchen, pushing the shadows aside. Sitting on a overturned plastic bucket under a flickering, weak yellow bulb was Sarah. Her once-vibrant face was sunken, her wrists alarmingly thin, and her dress torn at the shoulder. In her lap was a chipped plate of sour, washed rice, which she was feeding bit by bit to Jamie. Against the damp wall rested all their earthly possessions: a thin, stained pillow, a plastic bucket, and two spare outfits.
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