Page 23 of Checkmate
“Then I shall wear a bell,” she said, rushing forward to prepare Erica’s coffee.
“Oh, please. You don’t have to do that—”
“Nonsense. It’s what I’m paid for.” Perhaps. But it always made Erica extremely uncomfortable to have someone waiting on her hand and foot. It was all just too much.
“The chicken is your best bet. It has a shorter use-by date than the other two,” Gloria said, as she ignored the kettle in favour of the coffee machine.
Erica opened her mouth to protest before shutting it again. There was no point. “Chicken it is then,” she agreed, offering Gloria a small smile. “It looks great in here, by the way.”
Gloria beamed, her eyes brightening as she flushed with pleasure at Erica’s words. “Thank you, Miss Erica.”
Truth be told, the kitchen looked no different from it had when Erica had left this morning.
Everything was immaculate, the way it always had been. But that was a testament to Gloria’s work ethic, she supposed. And the woman took such pride in her job.
“Why don’t you join me for a beverage?” Erica asked, gesturing to the table.
“Thank you, Miss Erica,” Gloria replied, bringing a steaming mug towards her. “But I must get on.”
Predictable.
Smiling, Erica took the coffee and murmured her thanks, taking her seat at the breakfast bar. With a view spanning the entirety of their garden, Erica sat and enjoyed a peaceful moment, watching the birds bathe in the stone bath, while others helped themselves to the food she had left out earlier this morning.
With a happy sigh, Erica settled with her coffee and reached over for the mail, leafing through the envelopes.
Bill. Junk. Pushy sales pitch. Bill.
More junk, another bill, and…
Her fingers paused over the handwritten envelope. No stamp or address, just her name. It may have got mixed up with her regular mail, but this was clearly not a normal letter.
Whoever sent it had delivered it by hand.
Trying to place the handwriting, she opened the letter with a touch of excitement. She loved receiving mail. Even if most of it was bullshit.
Tearing the contents from the envelope, her smile froze in place as she unfolded the sheets and read the first few lines.
Tears blurred her eyes before she could even process that she was crying, a rushing sound in her ears, drowning out the rest of the world. Her hands shook as she tried to make sense of the scribbled words.
The pages fell from her frozen fingers, floating to the kitchen floor, as her entire body shivered as though she had submerged herself in ice.
She took a breath.
And then another.
She felt it rattle in her chest as she heard a gasping sound in the distance. It was only when she felt the tightness in her heart that she realised the rasping was coming from inside of her and she was hurtling her way towards a panic attack.
Resting her head on the kitchen counter, letting the coolness soothe her clammy forehead, she forced herself to count slowly to ten.
One, two, three, four…
It couldn’t be. She must have misread.
Five, six, seven…
Someone was fucking with her. They had to be. It was just a cruel prank.
Eight, nine…
