“The dessert spoon goes above the plate, not to the side,” she said.

“Did they teach you nothing at whatever motel you worked at before?”

I kept my eyes on the table. “My apologies, ma’am.”

I moved the spoon to its correct position.

“Julian, look at this,” Vanessa complained, gesturing toward me.

“This is what I mean. She is slow. She looks distracted.”

Julian did not look up from his phone. “She corrected it, Vanessa.”

“It shouldn’t need correcting in the first place,” she said, her voice rising.

“Next week’s dinner is crucial. My father’s associates are coming from New York.”

She leaned forward, her diamond ring catching the dim winter light.

“I cannot have an incompetent maid ruining my reputation.”

She glared at me, her eyes narrow and mean.

“And another thing,” Vanessa said, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper.

“I saw that little girl of yours hiding in the hallway earlier.”

My heart stopped.

“She was staring at me,” Vanessa said. “It is deeply unsettling.”

“Emma was probably just curious, ma’am,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.