Escape from Eden by Elisa Nader Page A

She stood in the center of the kitchen wearing a spotless white apron. She pointed to the magnetic strip over my workstation. “Where is your chef’s knife?”
    My pulse quickened. I looked over at my station. I’d arranged my knives so the empty space would be less noticeable. But they’d been reorganized, sizes descending in perfect order, a yawning gap where the chef’s knife should be.
    “It’s got to be around here somewhere,” I said, keeping my voice steady on the lie. It wasn’t exactly a lie. Gabriel still had it, so it was around here. Somewhere.
    Bridgette turned back to her frying pan, her mouth half-twisted with satisfaction.
    A flush of anger heated my cheeks. I shoved down the rage and faced Agatha.
    “Find it,” she said. “Those are expensive knives. We can’t just be leaving them about!” She threw an open palm at the cart. “Load the dishwasher and then I have a new assignment for you.”
    I sighed inwardly. I placed the dishes I’d collected in the washer and set it for a two-minute cycle. When I turned back around, I caught Aliyah, expression wrought with pity, flicking a glance in my direction. I ignored her. I didn’t want her pity. I didn’t want Bridgette’s vengeance. I didn’t want Agatha’s wrath. But it all swarmed around me like flies.
    “Now,” Agatha said, hitching her hands on her waist. “The traps need to be cleaned.”
    “Traps?” I asked, and heard a snicker from Bridgette. “The grease traps?”
    Agatha shot Bridgette a warning look. “No, Mia. The rodent traps. Once we’re finished in here, you’re to empty the traps from around the kitchen and the trash bins in the back. After lunch service, you need to take the carcasses and burn them.”
    “I … what?” I glanced around the room, at those dark and shadowy places under the counters and behind the refrigerators. “Isn’t there someone else who does that?”
    Agatha’s eyebrows lowered, three creases appearing between them. “Excuse me? Are you implying that you’re too good to clean the traps?”
    “Uh, no, I didn’t say that—”
    “See here, young lady,” she said, pointing a bony finger at me. “I’m not sure who you think you are, or what you think you have been put on God’s Green Earth to do, but it is to serve the Reverend and the good people of Edenton. You are going to clean out those traps. You are going to burn those carcasses, and you may end up doing it again if you don’t watch what comes out of that smart mouth of yours, understand?”
    I nodded, fighting back the score of angry words I wanted to scream in her bitter, haggard face.
    “Girls,” Agatha said. “Get this kitchen cleaned up quickly. It’s going to take Mia a couple hours to collect and empty the traps. And I want them cleaned out of here before we begin lunch service.” She curled her lip. “I don’t want those disgusting things anywhere near my food. We don’t want to serve any contaminated food,” she eyed me, “do we, Mia?”
    * * *
    The acrid, smoky smell clung to me as I pushed open the door to my cottage. Inside, the bunks were made, blankets pulled tight over the mattresses, and the other girls’ aprons missing from the pegs on the wall. Except for two. Mine and Lily’s.
    Fading sunlight edged through the blinds, enough that I didn’t bother turning on the light. The fan circled overhead, wafting down the stink of my hair and cooling the layers of sweat and smoke coating my skin. My gray dress was streaked with black, and, I noticed then, dried blood. I checked myself for cuts or scrapes, but found none, and ripped open the dress from the neck, peeling it off of me. I wasn’t going to pull that thing over my head. I emptied the deep pockets, throwing my ID tag and a burned stick wrapped in plastic onto my bed.
    In the bathroom, the sink still had pooling water around the edges of the drain. So I hadn’t missed the girls by that much time. I was relieved to not have to face them—even if it