# Chapter 29: The Weight of Secrets
Hello everyone, it’s me again! How are you all doing? Today, I’m thrilled to walk with you through another heart-pounding chapter of *The Housemaid* — Chapter 29, where every smile hides a knife, and every question feels like a trap. So settle in, because this one is going to keep you on the edge of your seat.
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The afternoon sun was glaring through the windows when Nina finally walked through the front door — and she didn't walk in empty-handed. She came back from dropping Cecelia off at camp loaded down with four massive shopping bags, swinging them like trophies from a battlefield. The moment she stepped inside, she dumped them on the living room floor with zero ceremony, as if the polished wood was just another shelf in her endless castle of things.
“I found the *cutest* little shop,” she announced, her voice bright and breathless. “I just couldn’t help myself!”
“Great,” I said, forcing a smile so tight my cheeks ached.
I studied her as she stood there, glowing from her little adventure. Nina’s cheeks were flushed pink, her blond hair was wild with frizz, and sweat had soaked through the underarms of her blouse. Her roots were badly in need of a touch-up — still dark and obvious — and there was a clump of mascara stuck stubbornly in the corner of her right eye. I took her all in, this woman standing in front of me, and for the life of me, I honestly couldn’t figure out what Andrew saw in her.
“Take those bags upstairs for me, would you, Millie?” she said, already collapsing onto the leather sofa and fishing out her phone. “Thanks so much.”
I picked up one of the bags, and good heavens — it was heavy. What kind of shop had she found? A dumbbell emporium? This was going to require at least two trips. I didn’t have Enzo’s big guns, after all.
“Kind of heavy,” I muttered, my arms already protesting.
“Really?” She laughed, that careless laugh of hers. “I didn’t think so. Maybe it’s time to start going to the gym, Millie. You’re getting a little soft.”
My cheeks burned. *I’m* getting soft? I wanted to laugh in her face. Nina didn’t have an ounce of muscle on her body. I had never once seen her break a sweat. She certainly never wore sneakers unless the fashion gods demanded it. I was young, I was strong, and I was definitely not soft. But I swallowed my pride along with my anger and began hauling the bags toward the stairs, one painfully slow step at a time.
Then she called out again, and my blood turned cold.
“Oh, by the way, Millie?”
I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached. “Yes?”
Nina swiveled on the couch, looking back at me with those pale blue eyes. “I called the house line last night. How come nobody answered?”
I froze. My arms trembled under the weight of the bags. “What?”
“I dialed the house phone number last night,” she repeated, slower this time, like she was savoring the words. “At around eleven o’clock. Answering the house phone is one of your responsibilities. But you and Andrew both didn’t pick up.”
My mind raced. At eleven o’clock last night, I wasn’t in my room. I was in the city with Andrew. We drove through the night to see the show Nina was supposed to see with him. We stayed at The Plaza. We shared a bed. The house phone could have rung a thousand times, and I wouldn’t have heard a single call — because I was in his arms, not in my tiny upstairs room.
“Um.” I set the bags down carefully and rubbed my chin, pretending to think. “I may have already been asleep by then. The phone isn’t loud enough in my room to wake me up. Maybe Andrew went out?”
She arched an eyebrow, slow and dangerous. “Andrew went out at eleven o’clock on a Sunday night? With whom?”
I lifted my shoulders, feigning ignorance. “I have no idea. Did you try his cell?”
I already knew she hadn’t. Because I was *with* Andrew at eleven o’clock. We were together. We were in bed.
“I didn’t,” she said, and something flickered behind her eyes. She didn’t offer a reason why not.
I cleared my throat, trying to steady my voice. “Well, as I said, I was in my room at that point. I have no idea what he was doing.”
“Hmm.” Her pale blue eyes darkened, narrowing as they fixed on me from across the living room. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll have to ask him.”
I nodded, relief washing over me like cool water. She didn’t know. She couldn’t know. She had no idea we drove into the city together, that I wore the dress she might have worn, that I laughed at the jokes she was meant to laugh at, that I slept in the hotel room beside Andrew — that I spent the night with her husband while she was away.
God only knows what she would do to me if she ever found out.
But she didn’t know. Not yet.
I grabbed the heavy shopping bags and heaved them up the rest of the stairs, my arms numb by the time I reached the master bedroom. I dropped them inside and rubbed my aching muscles, trying to shake off the tension. My eyes drifted toward the master bathroom — the one I had cleaned this morning. Since Nina had been out of town, it was already spotless. Strange how even her absence kept me busy.
I slipped inside.
The bathroom was nearly as large as my own upstairs room, with a full-size porcelain bathtub that sat higher than most, its rim reaching just about my knees. I frowned down at it. My imagination went somewhere dark, somewhere I didn’t want to go. I pictured little Cecelia, all those years ago, splashing happily in this very tub. Then I imagined Nina’s hands — her perfect, manicured hands — grabbing her daughter, forcing her under the water. Watching her gasp. Watching her fight. Watching her slip away.
I closed my eyes and turned away from the tub. I couldn’t think about this. But I could never forget how emotionally fragile Nina truly was. She was a beautiful woman made of glass and razor blades, and she could shatter at any moment.
And if she ever found out what happened between me and Andrew last night? It would destroy her.
And then she would destroy me.
So I reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, and typed a warning to Andrew:
*Just a warning: Nina called the house last night.*
He’ll know what to do. He always does.
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**Reader's Impressions & Star Rating**
Oh, this chapter was absolutely spine-tingling. The tension between Nina and Millie had my heart racing from the very first line — every word felt loaded, every glance seemed dangerous. Millie’s internal struggle between fear and defiance makes her such a gripping narrator, and the bathtub moment was hauntingly chilling. This chapter reminds us that trust in this house is a fragile, dangerous game. I give this chapter a solid 4.8 out of 5 stars — brilliant pacing, superb suspense, and a deliciously uncomfortable dynamic that left me breathless. ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
**Next Chapter Prediction**
Like a storm on the horizon, I predict Andrew will try to cover his tracks quickly — but Nina isn’t the kind of woman who lets a question go unanswered. She’s going to push harder, and Millie’s secret might slip through the cracks. The next chapter could introduce a confrontation, a clever lie, or maybe even a surprising ally for Millie. Either way, one thing is certain: something in that house is about to shatter.
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