I go to find our housekeeper, Celia. I've known her all my life. She's in her late fifties and has been in the house since I was a baby, cleaning and cooking for us for decades. It couldn't be pleasant to deal with my family, knowing what we do for a living and the kind of men we are, but she stayed.
Among everyone I know in this mansion including my family, Celia is the only person I'm certain would never betray me. She's like a mother to me—more than my own mother ever was.
"Celia?" I call as I enter the kitchen but she doesn't answer. She's a little hard of hearing now. I walk to the servant's quarters and when I see the faint yellow glow underneath the door, I know she's asleep. I'm sure she already knew what went down here tonight. I told her to turn in early and come out in the morning. My men were instructed not to harm her.
