Graduation felt like it led straight to unemployment. To make ends meet, I decided to alter my educational background to show I only finished middle school and entered the housekeeping industry. On my first day, I unexpectedly witnessed what could be described as a high-society family drama. The 9-year-old daughter, attempting to frame her 6-year-old brother, actually jumped off the stairs… 1 Her little scheme, naturally, didn’t succeed. Besides me, the surveillance cameras captured everything clearly. The young lady was fighting with her brother over something, couldn’t get her way, and ended up falling down the stairs herself. As a result, her mother, my employer, left her in the hospital without even visiting. The other maids in the house, disliking her behavior, pushed the responsibility of caring for her onto me. I hadn’t even moved into my dormitory yet and was already staying at the hospital. She cried from evening until morning, making my head throb. I wanted to give up, but my financial situation said otherwise. If I left now, finding another job as good as this one would be impossible. Free meals and lodging with a good salary. At least, at least I should stay until my debts are paid off. I had to figure out a way to mingle with the other maids and gather some information. “I’ve never seen such a troublesome child. When her brother enters her room, she burns it down to blame him.” “Her dad brought cookies from abroad, and when her brother unknowingly ate them first, she almost strangled him.” “She can’t stand it when her parents praise her brother. Whenever they do, she hits him.” “Back in our hometown, a girl like that would have been dealt with harshly.” These comments made me uncomfortable. Suddenly, a voice came from behind me: “So what if I’m that vicious person?” I was so startled that I dropped my phone and turned around to find her standing behind me, eyes swollen from crying and glaring at me. She tried to kick me: “You, a mere servant, dare to gossip about me behind my back.” “Believe it or not, I can have you fired.” I managed to dodge her kick just in time. But she slipped and fell. Suddenly, her cries were deafening. I quickly helped her up, holding her gently to calm her down. I thought she’d make an even bigger scene. But she calmed down unexpectedly. I looked down in surprise to see her snuggling in my arms, looking very docile. When she noticed my gaze, she looked up and met my eyes. She immediately looked down. Then she reacted and shouted fiercely at me: “What are you looking at?” “Believe it or not, I’ll gouge your eyes out.” Why is such a young girl learning lines from TV shows? I found it a bit amusing and carried her back to the ward, pressing the call button to get a doctor to check her. The good news was she wasn’t seriously hurt. The bad news was she claimed to be in pain and insisted I massage her, or she’d report it to the family. When Mrs. Taylor came to deliver food, she saw me massaging her leg. My hands were sore, alternating between my left and right hands. One hand massaging, the other shaking. Mrs. Taylor set the food down and gave me a look. I made an excuse to wash the dishes and met Mrs. Taylor outside. Mrs. Taylor immediately said with a disdainful expression: “If you hold her like this now, she’ll make a fuss if you don’t hold her next time.” I found it a bit strange. But I didn’t agree with Mrs. Taylor, just gently refuted: “Kids need affection, right?” 2 It didn’t seem like a big deal. But Mrs. Taylor gave me a knowing look, said nothing, and left. I was completely confused. I decided not to take Mrs. Taylor’s words to heart. As long as I appeared conscientious in front of others, that was enough. I returned to the ward to feed the young lady. She was indeed quite picky. Not only did she want me to feed her, but she also nitpicked: “Oh, I don’t eat onions.” “Why aren’t there any drumsticks? Asher must have eaten them.” “I’ll give him a piece of my mind when I get back.” I coaxed her while feeding her: “Then you can’t be picky.” “A balanced diet will make you strong enough to stand up to your brother.” Hearing this, she widened her eyes at me: “Aren’t you advising me to let Asher off the hook?” I looked innocent: “Why should you let him?” She frowned: “Everyone says it’s because I’m the older sister.” With an indignant look on her face, she said: “Why?” “Yeah, why?” I guided her: “You’re a few years older than him and will always be.” “Does that mean you have to let him have his way forever?” Hearing this, she got interested, looking at me with shining eyes: “Not bad, not bad, I like you.” “From now on, you’re on my side.” I found it amusing; she’s just a kid. I figured out how to handle her. As long as I hug her, tell her fairy tales, and agree with her. This young lady isn’t so hard to please. After three days in the hospital, the doctor confirmed she didn’t have a concussion and issued a discharge notice. I took her home, where there was an invisible hostility towards her arrival. Her mother frowned when she saw her, turned around, and left with her younger son. Other maids whispered when they saw her. Their eyes were full of undisguised disdain and disgust. Just as she was about to throw her toy at someone, I quickly grabbed her hand. I squatted down and gently advised: “Don’t you love the little rabbit?” “If you throw the rabbit, it will get hurt.” Hearing this, she quickly hugged the rabbit, stroking it continuously. I sighed inwardly, feeling sorry for her and worried she’d cause trouble and implicate me. I heard that whenever she caused trouble, a maid would be fired. I took her to her room. Because she previously burned her own room, she now lived in a narrow, windowless utility room. There was no light, and it had a strange smell. No exaggeration, my dorm was much better. Oddly, she showed no discomfort but placed her rabbit toy on the bed. Carefully covering the rabbit with a blanket. I opened my suitcase and tidied up her room. A voice came from above, sounding uneasy: “This is my mom’s punishment for burning the room.” “When she calms down, she’ll let me move back to my original room.” “She doesn’t dislike me.” I looked up at the little girl. She tried to act indifferent, not looking at me. But she was gripping the blanket tightly. I pretended not to see her stubbornness, casually saying: “Yeah, yeah, as long as you know it was wrong.” “Burning the room is dangerous. If something happened to you, how would your mom cope?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her sigh in relief. I think she also needed someone to affirm that her mom loved her, right? 3 The dark and damp room was really not suitable for living. Even though I cleaned it three times a day and used all sorts of effective pest control products, she always had some bug bites on her. Her fair skin was covered in red, swollen marks, with blood faintly visible beneath. I advised her: “How about you sleep with me at night?” “Staying in the employee dorm, you’re still being punished.” She was obviously tempted, but she stubbornly shook her head: “No, I have to let mom calm down.” “If I go to you, mom might think I’m disobedient.” Just then, Mrs. Johnson passed by, clicking her tongue disdainfully: “If she’s so obedient, why does she always anger her mom and hit her brother?” The little girl bit her lip, a look of grievance appearing on her face. Just as anger appeared on her face, I quickly scolded Mrs. Johnson: “Mrs. Johnson, we’re just workers here; it’s not our place to meddle in the family’s affairs, right?” “Mr. and Mrs. don’t like us pointing fingers at their family matters, do they?” Mrs. Johnson snorted from her nose and swayed away. I turned back to the little girl, seeing her eyebrows knitted together, tears welling up in her eyes. “I really want to listen to mom.” “But I really, really don’t want to…” I hugged her, holding her tightly, telling her: “You did nothing wrong.” “My young lady is a very obedient and well-behaved child.” “It’s them who are unfair, always forcing you to give up your rights.” Her actions were indeed excessive. But a little girl, not wanting her brother in her room, had to resort to burning the room. She had to use the threat of strangling her brother to gain the right to share food equally. The ones at fault are clearly the parents. I’m just a housekeeper and can’t possibly criticize my employers. I can only do my best to make her life better. Decorating her room. Changing her night light to the cutest little rabbit. Placing jasmine flowers so she can sleep with the fragrance… Thunder roared in the middle of the night, and the temperature plummeted. Awoken by the noise, I saw a shadowy figure in the room. I screamed in fright. The figure screamed too. I turned on the night light. The little girl was holding a pillow, looking at me, wearing a thin nightgown, her face pale from the cold. I quickly got up, pulled her into bed, and wrapped her tightly in the blanket: “What’s wrong?” “Why didn’t you wear a coat? What if you catch a cold?” I couldn’t help but scold her. She sniffled and told me: “The noise is so loud, I’m scared.” Place some jasmine flowers by her bed so she can fall asleep with their comforting fragrance… In the middle of the night, thunder roared, and the temperature plummeted. The noise woke me up, and I saw a dark figure in the room. Startled, I screamed. The figure screamed as well.
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