# Chapter 19: The Warning in the Garden
Hello, dear listeners and readers! It’s me again, your storyteller, and I’m so glad to be back with you. Today, we step into Chapter 19 of *The Housemaid*—a morning that seems to breathe a sigh of relief, calm and almost ordinary. But don’t let that fool you. In this house, danger never really sleeps. It just waits for the right moment to strike.
When the morning light creeps through the windows of the Winchester house, Nina is once again the polished, polite woman I thought I knew. Last night’s terrifying episode—her wild eyes, her trembling words, the strange shift in her mood—might as well have never happened. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was all a bad dream. But the proof is still wrapped around her right hand: a bandage, crisp and white, with tiny crimson dots bleeding through the gauze. That was no nightmare. That was real.
And yet, Nina isn’t quite herself this morning. She’s more frazzled than usual, as if the calm surface is barely holding. When she drives Cecelia to school, her tires screech against the pavement—a sound that makes my chest tighten. When she comes back, she stands in the middle of the living room, staring at the walls like she’s forgotten where she is. I finally step out of the kitchen and ask if she’s all right.
“I’m fine,” she says quickly, tugging at the collar of her white blouse. The fabric is wrinkled, and I know for a fact I ironed it this morning. “Would you be so kind as to make me some breakfast, Millie? The usual?”
“Of course,” I say.
The usual for Nina is three eggs scrambled in a river of butter and Parmesan cheese, four slices of bacon, and a buttered English muffin. It’s strange—I remember those PTA women whispering about her weight behind her back, but Nina doesn’t seem to care. She eats what she wants, when she wants. I respect that about her, even if the dirty plates she leaves on the counter for me to wash every morning never make it to the dishwasher. They’re just there, waiting, like everything else in this house.
When I bring her breakfast to the dining table, I hold my breath. Which Nina am I going to get today? The one who’ll say the eggs are undercooked, the bacon is burnt, or that she never asked for breakfast at all? Or the other Nina—the sweet, grateful one who thanks me like I’m the best thing that ever happened to her?
Today, I get the sweet one. She smiles at me. “Thank you, Millie.”
“You’re welcome.” I hesitate. “By the way, Andrew asked me if I would get you two tickets to *Showdown* on Broadway.”
Her eyes light up like a child’s. “He’s so thoughtful. Yes, that would be lovely.”
“What are some days that work for you?”
She scoops eggs into her mouth and chews. “I’m free a week from Sunday, if you can swing it.”
“Sure. And I can watch Cecelia, of course.”
She shovels more eggs into her mouth. Some of it misses her lips and lands on her white blouse. But she doesn’t notice. She just keeps eating, faster and faster, as if she’s starving. Then she winks at me. “Thank you again, Millie. I really don’t know what we would do without you.”
She likes to say that. Or she likes to threaten to fire me. One or the other. There’s no in-between with Nina Winchester.
I tell myself it’s not her fault. She has emotional problems—her own friends said as much. I can’t stop thinking about her supposed stay in a psychiatric hospital. They don’t lock you up for nothing. Something bad must have happened to her, and the darker part of my mind is dying to know what it is. But I can’t ask her. And my attempts to get the story out of Enzo have been useless.
Nina has nearly cleaned her plate in less than five minutes when Andrew jogs downstairs. I’m relieved to see him alive and well. After last night, I’d worried—what if Nina had done something to him? What if the water running in the bathroom was just a trick, a way to make it seem like he was fine? It seemed unlikely. But in this house, anything could happen.
My breath catches a little at the sight of him. His dark gray suit fits him perfectly. His light blue dress shirt brings out his eyes. Just as he enters the dining room, Nina pushes her plate away and rises, smoothing her blond hair—though it lacks its usual shine, and her dark roots are more visible than before.
“Hello, Andy.” She gives him a dazzling smile. “How are you this morning?”
He starts to answer, but his eyes dart down. There’s a tiny bit of egg still clinging to her blouse. One side of his lips curls up. “Nina, you have a little egg on you.”
“Oh!” Her cheeks flush pink as she dabs at the stain. But it’s been sitting there too long. A faint mark still mars the white fabric. “Sorry about that!”
“It’s okay—you still look beautiful.” He grabs her shoulders and pulls her in for a kiss. I watch her melt against him, and I ignore the twinge of jealousy that stabs through my chest. “I’ve got to run to the office, but I’ll see you tonight.”
“I’ll walk you out, darling.”
Nina is so freaking lucky. She’s got everything. Yes, she spent time in a mental institution, but at least she wasn’t in prison. And here she is, living in an incredible house, with tons of money and a husband who is kind, funny, wealthy, considerate—and absolutely gorgeous.
I close my eyes for a moment and let myself imagine living her life. The expensive clothes, the shoes, the fancy car. Having a maid to boss around, to force into a tiny attic room while I slept in the big bedroom with the king-size bed and the zillion-count sheets. And most of all, having a husband like Andrew. Feeling his lips against mine. Feeling his body heat pressed close to mine...
Oh my God, I have to stop thinking about this. Now.
In my defense, it’s been a long time for me. Ten years in prison, fantasizing about some perfect guy who would save me from everything. And now... well, it could happen. It’s possible.
I climb the stairs and get to work making the beds and cleaning the bedrooms. I’ve just finished when the doorbell rings. I hurry to answer it, and I’m surprised to see Enzo at the door, clutching a giant cardboard box in his arms.
“*Ciao*,” I say, remembering the greeting he taught me.
Amusement flickers over his face. “*Ciao*. This... for you.”
I understand immediately. Sometimes delivery people leave packages outside the gate, and Enzo must have carried it in for me. “*Grazie*,” I say.
He raises his eyebrows. “You want I...”
“Oh... yes, just put it on the dining table.”
He carries the package to the table. I glance at the return address: Evelyn Winchester. Probably somebody in Andrew’s family. After he sets it down, I thank him again. “*Grazie*.”
Enzo nods. He’s wearing a white T-shirt and jeans—and he looks good. Really good. All the rich women in this neighborhood love to ogle him. I prefer Andrew’s looks, of course. And there’s the language barrier. But maybe having a little fun with Enzo would be good for me. It would relieve some of that pent-up energy, and maybe I’d stop having wildly inappropriate fantasies about my boss’s husband.
I’m not quite sure how to bring it up, given he doesn’t seem to speak any English. But the language of love is universal, right?
“Water?” I offer.
He nods. “*Si*.”
I grab a glass from the kitchen, fill it halfway, and bring it to him. He drinks gratefully, and I can’t help but watch his biceps bulge. He has a really good body. I wonder what he’s like in bed. Probably fantastic.
“So, um... are you... busy?” I ask, wringing my hands.
He lowers the glass. “Eh?”
“Um. Like, do you have much... work?”
“Work.” He nods at the word. “*Si*. *Molto occupato*.”
“Oh.”
This isn’t going well. Maybe I should just get right to the point.
“Listen.” I take a step toward him. “I just thought maybe you want to take... a little break?”
His dark eyes study my face. “I... no understand.”
I can do this. “A break.” I reach out, place my hand on his chest, and raise an eyebrow suggestively. “You know.”
I had expected him to grin at me, scoop me off my feet, and carry me up to the attic. I did not expect his eyes to darken. He leaps away from me like my hand is on fire and lets out a rapid burst of angry Italian. I have no idea what he’s saying, but it’s definitely not “hello” or “thank you.”
“I... I’m so sorry,” I say helplessly.
“*Sei pazzo!*” he yells. He rakes a hand through his black hair. “*Che cazzo!*”
This is so freaking embarrassing. I want to crawl under the table. I thought he might reject me, sure, but not so violently. “I... I didn’t mean to...”
He looks up to the stairwell almost fearfully, then back at my face. “I... I go. Now.”
“Right.” I nod. “Of course. I’m so sorry. I was just being friendly. I didn’t mean to...”
He gives me a look that says he knows that was bullshit. Some things are universal after all.
“I’m sorry,” I say for the third time as he strides toward the door. “And... thank you for the package. *Grazie*.”
He pauses at the door, turning so his dark eyes meet mine. And then, in broken English, he says: “You... you get out, Millie. It’s...” He presses his lips together, searching for the word. The one he used the first time we met. This time, in English: “Dangerous.”
He looks back up at the stairwell again, a troubled expression on his face. Then he shakes his head, and before I can stop him to ask what he means, he’s gone.
I stand there, my heart pounding, the weight of his warning settling over me like a cold shadow.
What does he know? And why is he so afraid of this house?
---
**Reader’s Impressions & Star Rating:**
Oh, this chapter left me breathless! There’s such an eerie tension beneath the surface of an otherwise calm morning. Millie’s jealousy, Nina’s strange behavior, and then Enzo’s sudden panic—all of it builds beautifully toward something darker. Watching Millie try to flirt with Enzo and then being rejected so severely was equal parts painful and gripping. And that final warning, “Dangerous,” sends chills down my spine. This chapter is a masterclass in suspenseful quietness.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ **Rating: 4.8 / 5 Stars**
**Next Chapter Prediction:**
Enzo’s warning is clearly not just about Millie’s advances—he’s terrified of something lurking in that house. I predict that Millie will dig deeper into Enzo’s fears and try to get him to reveal what he knows about Nina’s past. Perhaps she’ll also open the mysterious package from Evelyn Winchester and discover something that ties the family’s secrets together. But with Nina’s mood swinging like a pendulum, and Andrew growing closer to Millie, the next chapter could explode at any moment. Danger is closing in, and Millie might be right at the center of it.
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