The Third Option

The clinking of cutlery ceases, and silence dominates the hall.

It goes off so loud that even a pin drop can be heard.

It seemed as though everyone in the dining hall had stopped moving the moment Hunter made a sudden motion.

Saturn’s glare on Heidi nearly bore holes in the girl’s skin. “Big brother, did she spill anything on you?” She asks from where she sits across Hunter.

The latter doesn’t respond. Instead, his eyes wander from the bracelet to Heidi’s face, locking her gaze.

The girl finds herself staring into green, deep-set eyes, the brow piercing on his thick, left brow glimmering with the light, calling for her attention.

But Heidi is rather engrossed in the intensity of his stare.

There’s a stark contrast in how he looks at her compared to before.

Instead of the warm gaze he used to give her, there’s a beguiling emptiness in his eyes—a void Heidi can’t touch.

Hunter’s eyes are impassive, and his lips don't twitch one bit.

The chilliest feeling runs down her spine, goosebumps erupting over her skin.

What the fuck is going on, and who exactly is this man?

Why is his aura much different from the man she knows, or could he be a frigging doppelganger?

“What are you doing, girl? Apologize to Hunter now,” Dad Tad chides, causing Heidi to shift her gaze. “You clearly offended him,” he adds after noticing the seething look in the girl’s eyes.

Heidi grows desperate to dunk his bunny, smug face into the wasabi bowl in front of him when she catches the ‘I warned you’ lingering on his expression.

But she knows better. The tension in the air has risen, and Dad Griffin looks like he could throw punches at her any moment.

Heidi looks at Hunter, who hasn't said a word since. Is he just going to sit there and say nothing?

“I'm sorry, sir,” she apologizes with a bow, trying to pull her hand away, but Hunter wouldn't let go.

He continues to stare, and this time Heidi can’t even meet his gaze.

She just keeps her head down, staring at where her other hand twists the flap of her skirt's pocket.

When Hunter finally releases her, she bows ninety degrees and leaves without looking back.

She may have missed a few things because she kept her head low, but the maids’ snickering as she strides past the chain isn’t one of them.

Hunter's stare haunts her as she makes for the servants' quarters.

She’s never seen such a look in his eyes before. It feels like a cold, dark hole absorbing her soul; even now as the images linger in her mind.

She can’t help but wonder who he is, because that isn’t her Hunter.

They’ve been dating for a year and seven months.

Five months before she was to give her report, Heidi stumbled upon a viral biking video of Hunter removing his helmet for the first time.

She checked his profile, watched his videos, and found she was falling for the man.

Three weeks later, she messaged him and confessed her feelings, which Hunter accepted before the issue of a physical date began.

At that time, Heidi thought she would be free to do as she pleased once she submitted her report, but fate had other plans.

The lie about her job and why she couldn't meet with Hunter started, and now she worries that it may be the reason for his strange behavior. If not that, he’s put off by her being a servant.

These thoughts race through Heidi’s mind as she enters the servants' quarters, where some maids follow her in with sneers on their faces, whispering among themselves.

Heidi goes to her bunk and lies on the lower bed, her face pressing against the pillow.

Mixed feelings swirl within her—sadness, frustration, guilt, and even anger.

The queasy sensation in her stomach feels as if it’s taunting her, much like the maids.

“Did you see her push his plate?” One of them asks with a snigger.

“Yeah, I damn well did. Sneaky bastard!”

“What was she even thinking?” the first girl asks, her voice brimming with disdain, and Heidi can feel its venom spritzing on her, lording over her lungs as her heart pounds incessantly.

“She was probably hoping he'd fall in love with her,” the third girl titters, stirring the spice in the conversation when she adds, “She thinks too highly of her miserable self.”

Feeling overwhelmed, Heidi excuses herself. She enters the bathroom and shuts the door before pressing her ear against it, listening to the girls’ muffled voices.

“Look at her dressed like that too.”

“I know, right?”

“She must have forgotten that coating shite with vanilla doesn’t hide its stink.” The girls hoot with laughter and its daunting sound causes Heidi to stagger backward in distress.

Some of the servants had previously served her, and even though she hadn't mistreated any of them deliberately, they automatically labeled her as a villain when she joined their ranks.

Heidi can only conclude that they harbored resentment toward her from the beginning for reasons known only to them.

“That was quite embarrassing,” one of the girls says between her chuckles. “I wonder how she's feeling.”

“To hell with that! Who cares how the jackass feels? She thinks she’s superior and here’s what she gets.”

Heidi scoffs and plops herself down to the WC seat cover, leaning forward with her elbows on her thighs.

Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't be bothered by these futile chinwags.

However, they concern Hunter. The one person she thought was her only solace after strenuous days with the Whites.

"Heidi!" Madam Kwakye's grating voice reverberates through the hallway as she approaches.

When she flings the door open, making her presence known in the room, the three girls point to the bathroom door without hesitation, wide-eyed with fright, lips sealed to cage their words.

In Madam Kwakye's presence, the stern housekeeper, no one dares to make a sound for fear of facing her wrath; often in the form of a harsh words or, worse yet, a flying hot pan across the face.

Knowing this much, Heidi attempts to stand up. But Madam Kwakye’s faster. 

The older woman lands a blow on Heidi's cheek before she can fully rise, causing her to fall back onto the seat cover.

Her feet slip from under her, and she hits her head on the flush tank, crashing to the floor.

She struggles to find balance on the slippery surface with her hands, but they keep gliding, leaving her in a helpless position with her back resting against the toilet bowl.

Madam Kwakye shows no mercy as she pulls Heidi up by her hair, grappling to prevent her from slipping again.

There’s a collision of grunts, thudding—occasionally sliding— feet, and elbows hitting the wall in the struggle.

“Break the servants’ rule again, Heidi, and I’ll teach you how to gain attention!” Madam Kwakye hollers, her foul breath of garlic and fish sauce charging into Heidi’s nose.

The latter tries to turn away. But Madam Kwakye’s strong grip finds her top and rips the front to expose her boobs. 

“Now, take off the other rags and meet me in the kitchen,” she orders, then eyes Heidi's chest before stomping out with a scoff.

She doesn’t bother closing the bathroom door behind her, just as she doesn’t bother for the room door anyway.

When she tore Heidi’s top, she ruined the latter’s bra altogether. Now her jubblies point toward the three maid girls, crying for attention while the girls clap and roll in the aisles.

“Arseholes!” Heidi grumbles as she walks to the room without minding them.

She takes out her uniform and returns to the bathroom, thinking that if she’d been warned about the consequences of her choice, she would have opted for the third option.