Page 68 of The Housemaid
My back is aching when I wake up in the morning. And my head is pounding. But worst of all, my bladder is full. Painfully full. This is the most pressing need of all.
Except what can I do? The bathroom is outside this room.
Then again, if I wait much longer, I’m going to pee in my pants.
I get up and pace the room. I try the doorknob one more time, hoping maybe I just imagined everything that happened last night and it will open magically. No such luck. It’s still locked.
I remember when I looked in the closet, there was only one item in there. A bucket.
Andy set this whole thing up. He tricked me into coming up here. He installed a lock on the outside of the door. And he also put that bucket there for a reason.
I’m really going to have to do this.
I suppose there are worse things than peeing in a bucket. I drag it out of the closet and I do what I have to do. Then I stick it back in there. Hopefully, I won’t have to use it again.
My mouth feels parched and my stomach is growling, even though eating would make me sick. Considering how he set up the bucket, I wonder if he put that same consideration into other parts of the room. I throw open the mini-fridge, hoping for some sort of bounty of food in there.
Instead, there are three mini water bottles.
Three beautiful water bottles.
I almost faint from relief. I grab one of the bottles, crack it open, and guzzle it practically in one gulp. My throat still feels dry and raw, but slightly better.
I eye the other two bottles. I would love to have another one, but I’m scared. How long will Andy leave me here? I have no idea. I should conserve my resources.
“Nina? Are you awake?”
Andy’s voice at the door. I stumble over to it, my head pounding with each step. “Andy…”
“Good morning, Nina.”
I shut my eyes against a wave of dizziness. “Is Cecelia okay?”
“She’s fine. I told my mother you went to visit some family and she’s watching Cecelia until you get back.”
I let out a breath. At least my daughter is safe. Evelyn Winchester isn’t my favorite person in the world, but she is a vigilant babysitter. “Andy, please let me out.”
He ignores my request—it doesn’t even surprise me at this point. “Did you find the water in the fridge?”
“Yes.” And even though it kills me, I add, “Thank you.”
“You’re going to have to make it last. I can’t give you any more.”
“Then let me out,” I croak.
“I will,” he says. “But you have to do something for me first.”
“What? Anything.”
He pauses. “You need to understand that hair is a privilege.”
“Okay, I understand that.”
“Do you, Nina? Because I feel like if you did understand it, you wouldn’t walk around like a slob, with your dark roots showing.”
“I…I’m sorry for that.”
“Because you couldn’t take care of your hair, now you will give it to me.”
