I froze for a second.

My stomach was already twisting with hunger.

It was rare for me to feel this desperate, and my voice came out almost pleading.

"Jeffrey, can we let it go this once?"

"No."

"Jeffrey..."

I stared at him blankly.

He kept the payment code on his phone turned squarely toward me.

"We agreed. My money is my money."

"I..."

"One more thing."

Jeffrey scrolled through his own account.

"After you passed out at the station, there was still two hundred and fifty in medical fees.

"The policewoman covered it. I paid her back for you.

"When are you planning to pay me back?"

My hand clenched tight around the hem of my shirt.

The other rested awkwardly on my belly.

"I don't have any money."

My voice was so small I could barely hear it myself.

"If you don't have money."

Jeffrey sighed.

"Then you don't get to eat this meal."

"Jeffrey, I..."

"Wendy Whitney, clear it away."

"Wait!"

My hand pressed down on Wendy's arm.

I turned back to him, eyes red.

"Can I put it on a tab?"

Jeffrey didn't answer.

My voice cracked into tears.

"I'm begging you..."

Wendy's hand stopped where it was.

She glanced at Jeffrey, unsure.

"Fine."

"Thank you."

The next second.

The calculator on Jeffrey's phone was in front of my face.

"Based on the current bank lending rate, I'll charge you three percent annual interest, zero point two five percent monthly.

"Your nutrition costs and hospital fees come to six hundred dollars total.

"If you pay it off within three months, in the end you'll owe me

"six hundred and four dollars and fifty cents."

My voice wouldn't stop shaking.

"Do you really have to work it out this precisely with me?"

Jeffrey narrowed his eyes.

"Not precise enough."

My fist trembled faintly.

I forced the words out.

"I can't come up with that much..."

"Then leave it owing. Interest on interest."

An IOU was set on the table.

"Pay in three months, it's six hundred and four fifty.

"Pay in six months, it's six hundred and nine.

"Pay in a year, it's six hundred eighteen.

"When you pay, that's when the amount gets set. Work it out yourself.

"If you agree, sign, and eat."

I looked at that IOU.

The room swam in front of me.

My stomach was already cramping from hunger.

With a shaking hand I picked up the pen.

The moment I signed my name.

Jeffrey set a bowl of porridge in front of me.

"That's fine now."

The porridge smelled good.

It was hot.

It was the best bowl of porridge I'd had in my whole life.

But I drank it crying.

When the meal was over.

I was the one who washed the dishes.

I knocked on the door of Jeffrey's study.

"The dishes are all done. That's five dollars in wages for me."

He didn't look up.

"Mm."

"If there's nothing else you need me to do, I'm going to rest."

"Fine."

I turned, one hand braced on the small of my back.

"Augusta Henson."

I looked back.

Another agreement was laid on the table.

"The allocation of usage rights for each area of the house. Jean drew up the agreement."

I picked it up, unable to believe it.

I read the terms out, one by one.

"The first, second, and third floors are all the private property of Party A, Jeffrey Mason.

"Any usage by Party B, Augusta Henson, incurs a fee of thirty dollars per hour.

"Except for housework, every other activity incurs a usage fee, including simply passing through."

"If you have no questions, sign it."

Jeffrey held the pen out to me.

I set the agreement down.

"Jeffrey, are you telling me I have to pay you rent even to sleep?"

"You don't have to sleep in my areas."

I went still for a beat.

He pointed at the supplementary clause.

"The fourth-floor attic is a shared marital area for both Party A and Party B. Usage by Party B, Augusta Henson, is free of charge."

"The attic..."

My voice shook.

"It's only forty square feet, and it's piled full of junk..."

Jeffrey didn't look up.

"Then you can keep writing IOUs."

I stopped talking.

I lowered my head.

I signed at the bottom.

As I finished the last stroke.

My tears struck the page too.

"It's signed."

He took it.

The pad of his thumb brushed that little smear of tears.

He didn't care.

That night.

I slept curled up in the two square meters left to me in the little attic.

The next morning.

I found the attic door had been replaced with a steel security door.

I gripped the iron bars with both hands and shook them:

"What is this? Let me out!"

"Ma'am, do you wish to use a common area?"

The butler stepped forward, smiling.

"My stomach hurts. I want to go to the hospital."

"That's fine. From here you go downstairs, and at your walking speed it's about five minutes to the front gate.

"That comes to a usage fee of two dollars fifty. How will you be paying?"

"I..."

I stood there like I'd been nailed to the floor.

"Ma'am, Mr. Mason gave clear instructions. To honor the agreement, you must follow the terms exactly.

"Once the usage fee is paid, you may leave the room."

Cramps twisted through my belly, wave after wave.

I clutched my stomach.

Tears welled up in my eyes.

"I... I really don't have any money right now. It all went back to Jeffrey.

"Please, just let me out first. Once I earn some money I swear I'll pay you back..."

The butler shook his head.

"The agreement says no credit."

"But..."

"What's going on? All this shouting."

The click of high heels.

Jean Swanson had a new pair of emerald drop earrings.

The latest release.

Two million at launch price.

They swayed and glinted under the lights.

My hair was a mess as I clung to the bars.

The glare stung my eyes.

The butler forced a smile.

"Ma'am is feeling unwell. She wants to go out."

At the word "ma'am,"

a flicker of contempt curled at the corner of Jean's mouth.

She glanced at my belly.

"The doctor said there's still a month until her due date.

"You've all worked at Mr. Mason's side for years. You can't see through a cheap trick like this?"

"But..."

"Leave her be. Unless there's housework assigned to her in the common areas, if she wants out of that attic at any other time, she pays the usage fee. Understood?"

"Yes, Ms. Swanson."

"Jean Swanson!"

The pain in my stomach left my voice raw.

I knew.

If I didn't seize this chance,

I might never get out at all.

I shoved my arm through the gap in the security door.

My hand caught her earring and yanked.

Jean shrieked.

Then screamed in pain.

"Let me... out..."

"Ms. Swanson! Quick! Somebody help Ms. Swanson!"

The servants didn't dare pull hard at the two of us,

terrified I'd rip the earring straight out of Jean's ear.

Left with no choice,

the butler opened the door.

I threw myself out without a thought,

stumbling, staggering forward.

"Crack!"

A slap caught me across the face before I saw it coming.

I dropped to the floor.

Jeffrey stood over me, and behind him Jean trembled with a hand over her ear.

Just now,

what happened here had come through to Jeffrey over the intercom.

"Drag her back for me!"

"Jeffrey! My stomach really hurts! I have to get to a hospital!"

"What, are you saying you're going into labor?"

Jeffrey narrowed his eyes.

"Jeffrey, I..."

My arms were hauled up.

The security door closed in front of me again.

I collapsed on the floor, both hands clamped tight around the iron bars.

"Jeffrey, it really hurts... let me out..."

"Sure."

He crouched down and held out his palm to me.

"Usage fee, two fifty. How are you paying?"

"Jeffrey!"

I burst into tears.

"You know every cent I had went to pay you back!"

"And?"

"And..."

My voice broke worse and worse.

"I don't even have two fifty..."

"Then there's nothing to discuss."

"Jeffrey..."

I reached my hand through the gap in the door.

Jeffrey slid an arm around Jean's waist.

My hand couldn't reach.

All I could do was stretch it out in despair through the cramping.

"Jeffrey! Come back! Something's going to happen to the baby!"

"Greg..."

"Jeffrey..."

My hand fell.

There was something warm beneath me.

The pain wasn't so sharp anymore.

My mind,

too, was slowly blurring.

A day later.

The backlog of housework was assigned to the attic.

The butler looked uneasy.

"Ma'am... has been in the hospital a full day now."

"Isn't her due date still a month off? Where would she get the money to check in early?"

"No... Mr. Mason, the baby's gone."

Jeffrey froze.

"A miscarriage. Damage to the heart, combined with the physical strain."

Only then did Jeffrey notice

the small dark-brown stain in the attic,

soaked down into the seams of the floorboards,

almost impossible to clean.

His breath caught.

Slow footsteps came from the top of the stairs.

It was me, back.

"Augusta."

He strode toward me.

I lifted my eyes, slow.

Out of the huge canvas bag I drew an envelope.

"Ten thousand. For you."

"Augusta?"

"The divorce agreement, that's for you too."