My father is constantly firing the maids. Says to them they have let him down and he has no choice but to let them go. It’s why I don’t care if one isn’t nice: they’ll only be here a few weeks at most.

This is why I just ignored the new maid walking through the forest when I was out playing, she looked firm, but young. The young maids never last long. Inexperienced - that’s what father says about young maids.

Later that night I was brushing my hair and she came in. She looked at curiously, as if I was some random stranger who broke into the house.

“Who are you?” She asked.

“Emma Fording, my father hired you.” I reply.

She looks confused.

“Mr Fording didn’t mention anything about a child?”

“So?” I say.

“So we are going to have some issues.”

I shrug.

“Doesn’t matter, you won’t be here long.”

“What on earth do you mean?”

“No maid has ever lasted more than a few weeks.”

“Well, I’m not just a maid.” She turned to leave.

I sat there confused, what does she mean by that.

The next day I found out.

I came downstairs to see the maid talking to my father. Father was standing there looking drowsy and repeating what ever she said.

“You shall not fire me!” She said sternly.

“I shall not fire you.” Father mimics.

She walked past me going up to the bedroom.

“You see,” she said, “I am not just a maid. Behave, or you’ll be next.”

I stand there open mouthed.

I don’t think this is just another maid.