18 Secret Phone

The sound of someone banging on her door, shouting at her to wake up, came too soon for Ella. “Are you awake! Don’t make me come in there!” the servant shouted.

“Yes, I’m awake!” Her voice sounded much more clear than it actually was. Ella got up and remembered she was still wearing the clothes she’d tossed on the night before. Footsteps started to echo away from the door, so she darted out of bed. “Wait! I need to go to the bathroom!”

There was a loud sigh as the woman came back to the door. “Don’t you have a bucket or something in there?”

“Yes, but I’m allowed to use the bathroom in the morning for ten minutes. Please?”

She groaned again and unlocked the door. Ella followed her down the stairs and to the closest restroom.

“Be quiet--the family is still sleeping,” the nasty woman insisted.

“Yes, ma’am.” Why she was calling a servant ma’am was beyond her, but she had been told she had to. She went into the bathroom and turned the shower on while she hurried to do everything else she had to do and then popped in to wash off really quickly, hardly having time to condition her hair while she shaved her legs. She missed her life in France where she could do all of these things whenever she liked. With any luck, that would all be over soon, and she’d be free again.

“Hurry up!” the woman shouted, back at the door after having walked away and come back.

Ella dried off, got dressed, and towel dried her hair as she came out the door.

The servant rolled her eyes and walked Ella back to the attic. “Go!” she said, pointing up the stairs.

Ella did so, leaving the towel with the woman before she went inside. The turn of the lock normally set her teeth on edge, but today, it was both annoying and made her realize that she needed to reclaim her freedom sooner rather than later.

The first thing she did was go to the wall and get Rome’s phone. She didn’t have a charger that would work with it. She wished Rome would’ve thought of that the night before, but he hadn’t. Thankfully, the battery was about seventy percent full. She blocked the caller ID and called Tim’s number, knowing he wouldn’t answer if it wasn’t clear who was calling, but he definitely wouldn’t answer if it was Rome calling.

Tim’s voicemail message greeted her ear, and she quietly said, “Hi, Tim. It’s Ella. Listen, you can’t call me back on this number, but I need you to know I lied to my stepmom about the dress and other stuff you gave me. I told her I gave it back to you. If she calls you about it, please lie for me. I’ll explain later. “ She took a deep breath, debating about whether or not she should say more. She knew he’d want to know what was going on, but she couldn’t risk explaining it at the moment, so she hurried and hung up before she said something impulsive.

Then, putting the phone in her bra, she went to log in to work so she didn’t get in trouble with her stepmom for being late. She did a few essential tasks and checked the time. It wasn’t even 8:30 yet, but she knew Rome was going to call her soon. Mary would come in around 10:00. Her stepmom probably wouldn’t even get out of bed today until 11:00 or 12:00. She should have enough time to talk to Rome before anyone was up to catch her.

It was important for her to get her work done, even if she didn’t want to think about anything but Rome. She loved her job and didn't want to let her dad down. She needed to talk to her father, but she wasn’t sure how to go about that without alerting her mother that there was something amiss. For now, she’d just talk to Rome and see what he had to say before she did anything else.

He’d said he loved her. He’d stood outside of her window in the middle of the night, after having only met her once, and declared his love for her. It all seemed surreal, like maybe he’d lost his mind or had been drinking too much. But no one could climb like that if he’d had too much to drink.

Was it possible he meant what he’d said? What if he changed his mind once he went home and slept for a bit? He might call her and apologize for being so crazy. Or he might not call at all.

Her worries amplified as his phone started to vibrate. The caller came up as Mark Hutio. She wasn’t sure who that was, but she had to assume it was Rome. With a deep breath, she went to the back of the attic, away from the door, and prepared to have a conversation with the man she loved, whom she hoped still loved her as well.