Looking back down at Belinda, he continued with annoyance, “Crazy fucking people. Don’t believe anything she says. I don’t ever want to see you here again. Stay away from this place. You hear me?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Belinda replied.
They both got into their car, but before he began to drive, Antonio looked back at the mansion one more time. At the top of the rusty fence, he noticed a crow with a dangling head, staring back at him before letting out a loud clicking caw. “No fucking way,” he thought to himself before driving off.
After getting back home, Antonio told Belinda to go inside with Jenny. He then went out to the backyard’s shed, retrieving a shovel. Anxiously and out of breath, he picked a marked spot and dug up the grass and then the dirt. He excavated until he reached an old, deteriorated trash bag, the one he used to bury the crow he had killed before Belinda was born. The bag tore apart when he picked it up from the ground, and he let out a loud gasp; the bag was empty.
After Camille learned about the incident and the sheets, an abundance of pads appeared in Belinda’s bathroom the next morning along with new sheets, but the mother-daughter talk never came.
Chapter Four - Our Little Secret
After years of living with the Santo family, Jenny felt a sense of belonging. Knowing that Belinda, who was nearly thirteen and aging out of needing a nanny, she grew weary. Jenny helped with a few minor chores around the house, but her main job was caring for the girl.
At first, Jenny would study while Belinda went to school or in the evenings. After years of trying, she realized that college was not for her. The subjects were often too difficult, and her lack of motivation prevailed during every deadline; she felt doomed.
After completely giving up, Jenny decided to figure out how to stay with the family longer. The wealthy family paid well, and her work was often minimal. Her most challenging time was when Belinda was a baby and Camille was recovering from hip surgery, which left her with a permanent limp. Jenny would often catch herself watching Camille walk away, a hint of jealousy overwhelmed her.
Camille had it all, a good home and a handsome, rich husband. Well, almost everything. She found Belinda to be a very awkward child, and she found her awfully creepy. The fact that Belinda always held the same old doll in her arms, even at such an advanced age, was quite unnerving to her. Nonetheless, she still wanted what they had.
In the mornings, while Belinda was at school and she had more free time, Jenny would dress in a crop top, tight leggings, and a loose ponytail that held her red hair up. She liked to run down the street and would stop at the dilapidated mansion as her stopping point before running back. The men in the neighborhood knew of her routine, as she wanted them to, but so did their wives. Finding a husband in that street would most likely be…unlikely.
“You should cover up. You look like a whore, you know?” Miss Nancy shouted from her porch as she watered her flowerpots.
“Fuck you! Old hag, you wish you had my ass,” Jenny shouted back.
Miss Nancy tried to spray her with the hose, but Jenny had already taken off. “Cuuunt!” Miss Nancy yelled out.
After walking into the house, sweaty and out of breath, she noticed that Antonio was home early. Camille was also home, but she often slept past noon. Given this rareopportunity and her unexplored curiosity, she found herself looking for him.
In the kitchen, Antonio worked on the computer while sitting at the breakfast table.
“You are home early,” Jenny stated.
“Yeah, there was a sewer issue at the office, and everyone was sent home,” he replied.
“I am making myself some iced tea. Would you like some?” she asked.
He was silent for a moment before replying, her eyes fixed on him. “Sorry, trying to focus. Yes, that would be nice. Thank you.”
Jenny grabbed two glasses from the cabinet and set them on the counter next to the fridge, facing away from Antonio. Trying to think quickly, she added ice to the glasses and poured the tea before walking back to the table. Once she reached him, she intentionally missed the table’s edge. The glass shattered under the table, and tea spilled everywhere, causing Antonio to spring back out of his chair.
“I am so sorry, sir. I am such a klutz,” she cried.
Annoyed, Antonio got down on the floor in front of her to help her pick up the shards of glass.
“Don’t worry about it, I got it,” she said to him before cutting her finger. While the cut was minimal, she pretended to freak out over the slight ooze of blood.
“Let me help, please,” he begged.
Antonio got up from the floor before helping her to her feet, then reached over the table for a napkin. He placed it over her finger and held pressure on it. During that moment, he was now a breath away from Jenny. Her sweat smelled sweet, and her eyes were bright.
He had never noticed her emerald eyes before, never once looking directly into them in all those years. He observed her, noting that her hair reminded him of strawberries, and the freckles descending from her flushed cheeks to her neck resembled their seeds. Her neck was thin and long, accentuating her delicate shoulders. For a moment, he wondered what her skin would taste like.
By the look Antonio gave her, she knew a door had been opened. Even a small crack in the wall could let water in. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for.
Camille came down the staircase, breaking the spell between Antonio and Jenny. Irritated, Jenny grabbed a broom and a dustpan.
“What happened here?” Camille asked.
