Chapter 13
Nerelle’s treatment lasted longer than expected.
No miracle.
No sudden clean ending.
Some scans were encouraging.
Others uncertain.
She lost energy.
Regained some.
Changed medications.
Changed wigs too.
One black bob.
One auburn.
One ridiculous blonde one Mara convinced her to buy.
She wore that to the mansion once.
I stared.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Say it.”
“You look dangerous.”
She laughed.
Good.
Her identity expanded again.
Not patient.
Not maid.
Not charity portrait.
Nerelle.
She reduced work hours permanently.
Then surprised me.
“I want to stop housekeeping.”
I expected health reason.
Wrong.
“I never liked it.”
I stared.
“You’ve worked here five years.”
“Money.”
Fair.
“What do you like?”
Vintage clothing.
Alterations.
Her grandmother taught her sewing.
She had been quietly repairing staff uniforms for years.
Of course.
Another entire person hidden behind a role.
She began apprenticing with a costume restoration shop two days a week when energy allowed.
The charity did not fund it.
She paid from wages and savings.
Important.
Not every positive change needed my money.
Eventually she left Rookmere employment completely.
I hated losing good staff.
I was learning to survive.
At her final shift, nobody called her courageous.
We had cake.
She complained it was dry.
May you like
Normal farewell.
Best kind.
