Memories

Kaya

How many times has it already been? I am being chased, stalked by my nightmares, over and over again. I have no rest. No matter what I do––my past is now a part of my very being. 

The clang of metal trays from the upper kitchen echoes faintly down the narrow stone stairwell, but it's the sudden burst of laughter that makes my hands tremble. I freeze mid-motion, one foot already on the third step. They're still upstairs. I shouldn't be here right now.

I swallow hard and crouch lower into the shadowed arch of the wine cellar, hugging the stack of folded towels tighter to my chest. My shift had ended hours ago, but as always, someone had to clean up after the beta twins' private dinner with Rosalie. And that someone, of course, was me.

I told myself I would be quick. Quiet. Invisible. But I should have known better. I always tell myself these things, and it's always a lie.