Dust coats every surface of this manor, and I scrub until my hands shake because one mistake could send me back to the streets. Victor Talbot's palm rests at the small of my back now, heavy and deliberate, while the cane lies beside the ledger and the neighbor stands in the hall watching us both. I should pull away before the line is crossed.
Instead I stay, knowing the punishment I fear is the only touch that feels like belonging. The hidden stairs have seen too many such moments already, lantern light catching the space between our bodies. Tonight the weight of his hand promises more, and I cannot decide if it will keep me or cast me out.
