97

ALESSANDRO

I rushed across the wooden floors towards the single door. They had to go through it, there was no other way out.

Either through this door or back through the ballroom.

The door took me to the back of the hallway, the marble back stairs leading to the staff area.

The waiting staff was busy going back and forth, not paying attention to the fact they had a stranger hanging out in this area. It told me it probably happened often.

While the front of the house shone, the servants’ area was darker with lifeless colors.

It reflected Calvino s disregard for those lesser than themselves. At our house, we often spent time in the kitchen, along with our staff. They were pretty much part of our family.

The sounds of the staff working bounced off the bare walls, the sound traveling both ways. An older woman, with wrinkles and pain etched on her face, passed by me for the second time. She threw me a curious glance but said nothing.