Chapter 1: Leftovers in the Ordinary House
I knew the house looked ordinary from the street, which was the most obscene thing about it.
My name is Pamela Quinn. I am twenty-eight years old, six months pregnant, and I eat on the floor of an ordinary family dining room while my stepmother pours garbage into my bowl.
The chain around my ankle runs beneath the dining table and locks around the leg of the heavy oak table.
My dented metal bowl sits on the floor.
Pearl Nash stands over me in a champagne sequin evening gown, glittering in the afternoon sunlight as if she is dressed for a party instead of supervising a prisoner.
She holds a chipped plate containing last night's leftovers.
She tips it over my bowl.
Cold chicken.
Congealed rice.
Wilted vegetables.
A little gravy that has hardened around the edges.
It lands with a wet slap.
Broth splashes onto my faded beige maternity dress and across my cheek.
Pearl looks down at me.
"Oops.""
Her voice is almost cheerful.
She flicks a piece of chicken with her fingertip.
"Don't worry, Pamela. The baby will thank me for the diet.""
The housekeeper near the sofa covers her mouth.
I know why.
She doesn't want Pearl to see her crying.
Pearl notices anyway.
"What's wrong, Mrs. Ellis?""
The housekeeper lowers her hands.
"Nothing, ma'am.""
Pearl smiles.
"Then stop making that face.""
Mrs. Ellis nods quickly.
I reach into the bowl.
My fingers sink into the cold rice.
Pearl laughs softly.
"A pregnant dog still eats from a bowl. What's the difference?""
My left hand remains over my stomach.
The baby moves.
Just once.
A tiny flutter beneath my palm.
I close my eyes.
Not because I am crying.
I am past crying.
I close them because I need to remember that something inside me still belongs to me.
Pearl crouches.
Her sequins catch the sunlight.
"You know what your problem is?""
I don't answer.
"You still think you're the lady of this house.""
I pick up a piece of chicken.
Pearl tilts her head.
"Eat.""
I put it in my mouth.
Cold.
Dry.
Flavorless.
I chew.
The chain rattles softly against the table leg.
Pearl smiles at the sound.
That smile tells me she enjoys this.
She has enjoyed it for months.
The chain was put on four months ago.
The bowl came a week later.
Somewhere between those two things, I stopped being Pearl's stepdaughter and became something she kept.
A possession.
A secret.
A punishment.
And somehow, the cruelest part was that my husband had no idea.
Jack Driscoll had never seen the chain.
He had never seen the bowl.
He had never seen me eating scraps from the floor.
He worked long hours at the office. Pearl always made sure I was cleaned up before he came home.
Whenever I heard his car outside, the chain disappeared beneath a rug.
The bowl went into a cabinet.
Pearl became sweet.
And I became his smiling wife again.
Because Pearl had promised me that if I told him, she would make things worse.
She had whispered it one night while tightening the chain.
"Tell Jack, and you'll never see your baby.""
I believed her.
God help me, I believed her.
The front door opens.
My hand stops.
Pearl looks toward the hallway.
Then I hear footsteps.
Heavy.
Familiar.
Jack.
He appears in the doorway wearing his gray suit, one hand gripping his briefcase.
He stops.
His eyes move slowly across the room.
Pearl in her glittering gown.
Mrs. Ellis with tears on her face.
The broken dignity of the dining room.
Then me.
On the floor.
My face streaked with broth.
My fingers covered in cold rice.
My swollen stomach beneath a faded maternity dress.
And the chain.
Jack's eyes drop to my ankle.
The room becomes completely silent.
His briefcase slips from his hand.
It hits the floor.
"Pam?""
I cannot answer.
He crosses the room.
Pearl steps forward.
"Jack, this isn't—"
"Don't.""
His voice is so quiet that Pearl actually stops.
He kneels beside me.
His hands shake as he reaches toward my face.
"Who did this?""
I stare at him.
My lips tremble.
"Pamela, look at me.""
I do.
His eyes fill instantly.
He touches the broth on my cheek with his thumb.
"You've been eating this?""
I look down.
That is all the answer he needs.
Jack's jaw tightens.
He reaches beneath the table and sees the lock.
His face changes.
"How long?""
I whisper, "Four months.""
He looks at Pearl.
"Four months?""
Pearl raises her chin.
"You don't understand what she's like.""
Jack slowly stands.
Pearl takes a step backward.
"Jack, listen to me.""
He doesn't.
He turns to me again.
"I've got you.""
Those three words break something inside me.
I start crying.
Not quietly.
Not gracefully.
I sob like a child who has finally been found.
Jack drops beside me and wraps his arms around my shoulders, careful of my stomach.
"I've got you," he whispers again.
I bury my face against his chest.
For months, nobody had held me like I was human.
Now someone did.
Jack pulls away.
He looks at Pearl.
"What did you do to my wife?""
Pearl's expression hardens.
"Your wife has been disrespecting me since the day I moved in.""
Jack laughs once.
There is no humor in it.
"She was chained to a table.""
"I was disciplining her.""
"She is six months pregnant.""
"Exactly.""
Pearl points at my stomach.
"She's carrying your child, and she needs to learn responsibility.""
Jack's eyes go to the bowl.
Then the chain.
Then Pearl.
Something inside him snaps.
He crosses the room.
The slap cracks through the dining room.
Pearl crashes sideways into the table.
A stack of plates tumbles to the floor.
Glass shatters.
Mrs. Ellis gasps.
Pearl sits among the wreckage, one hand pressed to her cheek.
"You hit me.""
Jack stares at her.
"You chained two lives to a table.""
Pearl's eyes narrow.
Jack points toward the chain.
"Two lives.""
His voice drops.
"You'll answer for both.""
Pearl slowly rises.
Her ruined gown sparkles beneath broken glass.
"You will regret this, Jack Driscoll.""
Jack doesn't blink.
"From today, you serve Pamela.""
Pearl freezes.
"Excuse me?""
"Every meal.""
Jack looks toward Mrs. Ellis.
"And you will help her.""
Mrs. Ellis nods through her tears.
Pearl laughs bitterly.
"You think you can order me around in my own house?""
Jack takes one step closer.
"Our house.""
Pearl's smile disappears.
Then she looks at me.
For the first time, I see something behind her anger.
Fear.
Not fear of Jack.
Fear of something else.
She straightens her dress.
"You'll see.""
I wipe my face.
"What will I see?""
Pearl looks directly into my eyes.
"The reason your husband married you.""
Jack stiffens.
May you like
Pearl smiles.
"And the reason he was never supposed to find out.""
