Chapter 52

Hannah

I awoke with a start to the sound of rustling curtains and soft footsteps across the bedroom floor. Squinting against the morning sunlight, I pushed myself up on my elbows to see my handmaid, Ana, moving around the room.

Yawning, I sat up fully and rubbed my eyes. Ana pulled open the curtains to another window, letting even more sunlight stream in.

“Good morning, Luna,” she said without turning, her voice sounding more hoarse than usual. “I hope you slept—”

Before she could finish, she fell into a fit of coughing. I blinked hard, taken aback by how sick she sounded.

“Are you sick, Ana?” I asked, furrowing my brow.

She turned towards me then, and I immediately noticed how pale and sickly she looked. “I’m so sorry, Luna,” she said, clearing her throat. “It’s just allergies.”

“Allergies?” I threw the covers off of myself and swung my legs over the side of the bed, standing. As I approached, I could see the dark circles under her eyes and the pale look on her face. “You don’t seem like someone who’s suffering from allergies.”

My handmaid paused for a few moments, clearly grappling with whether to tell me the truth. Finally, her shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “I’m sick. I think it was something I ate.” And then she hurried to add, “But don’t worry, Luna! I won’t let it get in the way of my duties.”

With that, she turned on her heel and began making my bed.

I couldn’t help but frown as I watched her work, my mind flashing back to the countless times in my past life that she had dutifully cared for me through my own bouts of debilitating illness—the severe vomiting, the dizzy spells, the emotional breakdowns.

In my past life, I had treated her—and all of the servants—with nothing but cold indifference and callous disregard, too wrapped up in my own misery to pay her any empathy or kindness in return.

A pang of guilt twisted in my gut as I really looked at Ana—this woman who had devoted herself to me, who had handled the brunt of my foul moods and childish behavior without complaint for years now.

The sting of shame was sharp and visceral.

Well, not anymore. Not this time around.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said, crossing the room to take her by the elbow and guide her toward the armchair next to the fireplace. “You’re in no condition to work. Sit down. I’ll be right back.”

Ana opened her mouth to protest, but I shot her a look that promptly silenced her. Before she could try to argue further, I turned on my heel and hurried into the bathroom.

I returned moments later with a cool, damp cloth draped over one arm and a small pill bottle clutched in my other hand. Ana was perched on the very edge of the chair, her arms folded tightly over her midsection, when I knelt in front of her.

“Luna, you don’t need to—” she tried again, but I simply held up my free hand to stop her.

“Enough,” I murmured, reaching up to gently dab the cloth along her neck, which instantly seemed to give her some relief. “You’ve taken care of me more times than I can count over the years. I’d like to start returning the favor.”

A delicate pink color tinged Ana’s pale cheeks as she averted her gaze, seeming almost… ashamed? I said nothing, simply continuing to tend to her in silence as I smoothed the damp cloth across her clammy forehead and flushed face. Only once some of the sickly pallor had faded from her complexion did I uncap the pill bottle.

“Take these,” I instructed, tipping two pills into the palm of her hand and holding out a glass of water toward her. “They’ll lower your fever and settle your stomach.”

For several long moments, Ana simply stared down at the pills resting in her hand, her expression utterly baffled. Then, finally, she swallowed the pills with a gulp of water and leaned back in the chair.

“Thank you, Luna,” she breathed. “But I don’t understand. Why are you doing all this? You’ve never…”

Her voice trailed off, but she didn’t need to finish; I could hear the unspoken words loud and clear. You’ve never shown me this level of care or compassion before. I felt my chest constrict painfully, a lump forming in my throat.

Because it was true.

Offering her a thin smile, I patted her hand and stood.

“Take the rest of this week off,” I said gently. “You need time to recover fully. And don’t worry; I’ll make sure you still receive your regular wages during that time, no arguments.”

If it was even possible, Ana looked even more stunned by my words. She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again, clearly too stunned to even speak.

“Luna Hannah, I…” She finally said, swallowing hard and shaking her head slowly. “Thank you. You’re very kind. I don’t know how to make it up to you—”

“There’s no need to make anything up to me,” I interjected firmly, taking a step back. “You’ve more than earned a bit of rest and care, Ana. Please, think nothing of it.”

Ana blinked owlishly up at me again, but finally nodded and stood. I watched as she made her way over to the door to leave. She paused there for a moment, her hand resting on the doorknob.

Her next words caused my blood to run cold.

“One more thing, Luna,” she said, slowly turning to face me one last time. Her gaze flickered towards the bathroom almost imperceptibly. “Those… supplements you have hidden away. Are you planning to start taking them again?”

My mouth went dry as cotton as I felt myself instinctively following Ana’s line of sight towards the bathroom where I knew that little bottle of diet pills lay tucked away in the shadows of the medicine cabinet.

Part of me wanted to lie, to hastily deny her insinuation and brush it off entirely.

But I knew she must have seen them, perhaps while cleaning at some point. And I was no longer interested in lying.

“I’m trying not to,” I admitted in a small voice, unable to keep the shame from creeping into my tone. “But it’s… difficult.”

A heavy silence fell over us then, full of the weight of my own demons. Ana looked at me, and something unreadable flashed through her eyes. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and insistent.

“Flush them,” she urged, her eyes widening ever so slightly. “Flush them and never take them again.”

I blinked in response. “I know I’ve gotten too thin—” I began, but she cut me off with a shake of her head.

“It’s not about your weight.” Her eyes flickered down to my belly, and for a moment, I felt oddly naked in front of her. When she looked back up at me, I felt my stomach drop. “They’re not what you think they are.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Just… be careful.”

Before I could open my mouth to respond, she was gone.

I only allowed myself a moment of stunned confusion after that before I was scurrying to the bathroom to take a look at the pills.

With shaky hands, I pulled the bottle out and dumped several pills into my hand, inspecting them closely. They looked normal, just like they always did: small, blue, with a little “W” to represent WhiteRabbit stamped into each one.

They’re not what you think they are, she had said.

I furrowed my brow, thinking deeply; so deeply, in fact, that I almost didn’t notice the sound of the bedroom door opening again.