Cilla’s POVWhen Elizabeth Jamison returned to her house that day, everything was spotless. I watched her as she walked through the door, looking around the room in what seemed like surprise. I was seated on the couch, which was also something she did not expect. Her little brat was also on the couch fixated on the television. When she heard the door open, she leapt up and went to hug her mother.“What is going on?” Mrs. Jamison asked me.“What do you mean?” I asked innocently. Standing up, I faced her. “I have done my job and now that you’re back, I think it’s time for me to leave.”She shook her head. “Wait up, why where you sitting on the couch like you own the house?”“Where did you want me to sit after I finished my work? I may be a slave but I’m human as well. You can’t expect me to stand all day.”“Never sit there again,” Mrs. Jamison stated.“Mommy,” the little girl began and I rolled my eyes. This was it. Glancing at Mrs. Jamison, I started to feel a bit nervous. This woman m
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