The next morning I still didn't see Master Eugene in his room. I did his bed without our usual conversation, and truth was, it was lonely. The room seemed even more big than it was and especially empty without a person in it.

When I went downstairs, I bumped into Matthew.

"Oh, it's you," he said, looking at me.

He was a round man with a round face, round nose, and round belly, but he had a nice air about him. I wondered if I should ask about Master Eugene, but then again, I didn't exactly have a reason to care. My job here was to clean the room, not care about the whereabouts of the masters.

"Good morning, Matthew," I said instead.

"Good morning, uh—forgive me. I forgot your name." He looked apologetic, and I smiled to show it was fine.

"I'm Shuyan, or Sue."

"Sue? Shuyan? You have two names?"

"Yes. My parents gave me up for adoption under the name Shuyan, but everyone found it hard to say and called me Sue."

Matthew suddenly smiled really big. "But you kept using Shuyan?"

"No, not really." I thought about the first day I came here. "I was going to tell Mister Kupka and everyone to call me Sue, but then my friends—Clo and Beth, told me to use my real name. They said it was prettier."

"How wonderful!" He smiled. "Those are some wonderful friends! My real name is Matheus, but people never bothered with pronouncing it and called me by the more common Matthew. Before I knew it, I was going with the flow! I wish I had people who called me by my real name."

"I suppose I never thought of it that way." I smiled. "Would you like me to call you Matheus from now on?"

"Hmm," he tapped his chin. "You know what? Yes, Miss Shuyan. Thank you."

"I'll be going now," I said, "I almost forgot I still have to go to Mister Kupka."

"Oh, before that—Master Eugene told me that recently he might be eating breakfast downstairs, so don't be too worried if you don't see him."

My eyes widened.

Eating breakfast with the others? Why?

"Oh, thank you for telling me, Matheus." I tried to sound as lively as possible. "Have a nice day, then."

"Same to you, Miss Shuyan."

I hurried down the stairs, where the girls were already there again. Just as I arrived, Mister Kupka arrived, this time telling us to clean the stairs and banisters of the staircase on the East side of the mansion.

I couldn't focus on listening, though. All I could think about was that something happened to Master Eugene. Was he never going to be allowed to eat breakfast in bed again? To talk to me?

Why?

Was it—could it be because of Silas?

It left an aching feeling in my heart. I shouldn't have expected anything, but losing a friend still felt painful after all those times. And although we were in the same house—this large mansion was so big, with its West wing and East wing, front entrances and back entrances, and three different parlor rooms for different occasions, that I have never seen any of the masters when we were working. Not to mention that Mister Kupka would purposefully assign us to clean a room only if he was sure none of the masters would be using it then.

The days passed and turned into weeks, and then October approached. Looking at Eugene's empty bed was the only way I could be sure of his existence, and that once, we talked, with me tucking in the sheets as he sat in the chair next to the nightstand.

That night Clo invited me to take a bath together again. We were the last two ones, but I didn't mind—it was better than being last and washing alone as it was kind of lonely, and I felt like I needed something to get my mind off the whole matter.

"So tell me," she said after she got into the tub, and I was still washing myself with soap, "why do you have such a long face?"

I wondered if I was that obvious.

"Nothing," I laughed. "Your advice the other day really helped."

"Hmm," she muttered, not convinced. However, she took the hint and stopped asking about it. Without saying anything more, we both bathed. When we finished and changed into our nightclothes and draped a shawl over ourselves, we began walking down the attic hallway to our shared bedroom.

Clo carried the lantern and her clothes and my mind was wandering somewhere else when she suddenly mentioned it.

"Remember Master Eugene's fall last time?"

"Yes, why?"

"Harper told me that Master Eugene always kept it a secret from them. Apparently only Mister Kupka and the older valets know. He's a strange person."

"Do you think he's fine?" I asked.

"Fine? What do you mean?" Unable to keep it in anymore, I spoke.

"I used to talk to him when he ate breakfast in bed, but recently I haven't seen him in the mornings."

"Well, maybe he's going to start eating breakfast with his brothers and not bother you, isn't that good?"

"I suppose." My voice cracked. Clo stopped walking and turned to me.

It dawned on her.

"Is Master Eugene the person you talk to me about?"

I could tell it was not going to be a good conversation, and I hesitated—but Clo was my friend. I had finally made a friend who I could share my feelings and secrets with. I didn't want to lie to her.

"Yes."

"Shuyan—" her eyes grew wide. "He's a Beardsley!"

"Master Eugene is different," I said quickly, unsure why I was suddenly defensive. "He really is. I walked into his room by accident but he pretended he was the one who spoke to me first—"

"Why would you talk to a Beardsley, of all people?"

"He doesn't seem malicious," I whimpered. "We've talked several times before and he never told anyone."

"Do you honestly think they would go out of their way and talk to you for no reason than to be friends?"

Her words stung.

"Why would you say such awful things?"

"Listen, Shuyan!" Clo hissed. "How do you think they fulfill their needs?"

"Needs?" I realized what she meant, and shook my head. "Clo, let's not talk about such—"

"How do you think the women they sleep with never get pregnant with their children? Do you know how much of a scandal it would make if people knew a Beardsley impregnated an ordinary harlot? What would they do with the child—raise it as a noble?" Her voice was loud and echoed in the hallway.

"Clo, please be quiet," I begged her. I didn't want any of the other servants to hear and wake up. Much less to us talking about unsavory things about the Beardsleys.

"Listen!" She leaned towards me until our noses were only an inch apart. "Listen to me! With money, men can have have anything they desire! People will do anything for them, from kidnapping women, performing abortions, keeping secrets, to murder!"

There were shivers up my spine, but not because of what she said—it was because of how she said it.

"The Beardsleys may have a lot of bad rumors surrounding them, but you can't just say things like that. There's no proof such things happened in this house, and not all of them are the same."

"Shuyan." Her voice was suddenly different. Scary, but cool and distant. "You don't realize it, but we are different from Beth and Rhiannon."

"Different?" Did she mean our race?

"We are below women. We are seen as fetishes, as interesting, exotic, and objects."

I bit my lips. She was right.

"My whole life men have degraded me and treated me like I'm not even human, but do you know what? Whenever we are alone, they offer me the same thing. Money for my body."

I couldn't speak.

"And sometimes, you know," she whispered, "when I see my siblings shivering because they don't have enough to wear, or hear their stomach growl after eating what we have, I think about it. I come so close to selling myself—but I always stop at the last minute, because I know if I do, I know I'll regret it."

She leaned back.

For a moment, I could see the young girl that was in her, always hidden behind her loud voice, threatening glares, and flamboyant attitude.

"Clo—" I couldn't finish whatever it was that I was trying to say.

"I don't know what it is that's made you care so much about Master Eugene but don't forget what he is: a Beardsley. There's more than just status dividing you two."

The words stung.

"I will never fall in love with a white man, and neither should you."

Her voice was not mean at all, in fact it was soft and sad.

She turned back and started walking, the lantern in her hand. I watched as her and the light grew further and further and I was left in the dark hallway. There I suddenly realized how different Clo was from me.

Somewhere deep in my heart I had always imagined Clo and I to be similar, both outcasts of society and coming from rough childhoods—but that wasn't the case. I was privileged: not once had I had to worry about anyone but my own well-being. No. I didn't even have to worry about mine. I had food and shelter, but Clo and her siblings weren't promised that.

I thought of Clo's crass smile the first day, and the comments she made that angered Mister Kupka. From the first day she came to the manor to work she knew of the risks, and yet she still came, because it was the only place that would accept her.

As I looked at her silhouette, I realized Clo had always been carrying such a burden, and I never knew—and that hurt the most.