The house looks empty without the servants. Bodyguards carry Avery's luggage, and she's about to climb the stairs to her room when loud footsteps echoed through the hall.

"Mrs. Howel," a rough voice greets her.

A squat woman in a long black servant's dress approaches, followed by several other maids in the same outfit.

Avery turns around and looks down. The woman in front is Maureen, Mrs. Howel's head housekeeper. Avery assumes that Maureen is here to invite her to Mr. Howel's house. In the past, Mrs. Howel would frequently invite Avery over when she was bored. Every time, Avery returned home humiliated and covered in wounds.

Avery feels exhausted from the chaos at Andrew's and her terrible nightmare. The thought of dealing with Maureen irks her.

"What do you want?" Avery asks impatiently.

Maureen's wrinkled face is alight with excitement. She's a sadistic woman who enjoys punishing and whipping Avery. Last time Avery managed to deprive her of the fun of a whipping, but she won't let Avery get away from the whipping this time.

"Mrs. Howel has asked me to take you to her place," Maureen says.

Avery descends the stairs and approaches Maureen.

"Is Mrs. Howel missing me again?" she asks with mock sweetness.

"Cut the crap!" Maureen snarls, "Get her!"

"Don't move!" Avery raises her voice.

As Evan's wife and the lady of the house, the maids obey her. They give her a frightened glance and freeze in place. Avery sneers down at them. She knows she can't avoid Mrs. Florence Howel, but she refuses to allow the maids to drag her around.

"I can go on my own," she says, taking brisk strides toward the door.

"Take her luggage to Mrs. Howel's house," Maureen instructs the bodyguards.

The men cast uncertain looks at Avery.

"Why is that necessary?" Avery asks flatly.

"Mrs. Howel is disappointed that you haven't been able to figure out the Howel family's rules since your marriage," Maureen replies with cruel excitement, "From tonight forward, we're going to give you a stern and intensive training. "

Avery sneers. Mrs. Howel has been trying to discipline her ever since she married Evan, using Maureen to do her dirty work. After Avery escaped her last whipping, Maureen has been more vigilant than usual—she senses that Avery has changed, but she's not sure why. Seeing Avery sneer makes chills run down Maureen's spine.

Avery walks on the broad pebble path to Mrs. Howel's house. The European sconces cast long shadows. As Avery approaches the door, Maureen shoves her roughly and suddenly from behind. Avery stumbles, catches herself, and turns around to glare at Maureen.

"What a pathetic, disgusting woman," Avery thinks, "She grows bold just because we're near Mrs. Howel. In the other house, she wouldn't dare to touch me, but now that she has the upper hand she becomes fearless."

Maureen glares back at Avery.

"What?" Maureen challenges, "What can you do about it? Suck it up!"

Before Avery can respond, Maureen nods at one of her minions. The woman grabs Avery firmly by the arm.

"Take her to the little dark room," Maureen commands.

Avery is surprised by the command. She assumed she'd have to face Mrs. Howel, but Maureen's order indicates she's going to be locked away instead. The maid guides Avery out of the house through a side door and leads her up to a small cottage in the middle of a forest. The cottage was originally designed to discipline servants, but in recent years she's been it's only inhabitant.

The cottage is dark and cold at night. When the wind blows through the forest it makes an eerie and terrible howling sound. Maureen pulls a key from her pocket and unlocks the cottage door, and the servants drag Avery in and roughly shoved her to the floor. Maureen grins cruelly before slamming the door shut. Avery can hear the scraping of the lock and the clanking of chains against the iron door. Avery is alone in the darkroom with nothing but a bed and a small window.

Before Avery can get up from the cold floor, Maureen's taunting voice comes in through the window.

"Mrs. Howel has ordered us to leave you in this room for three days to reflect upon your mistakes," Maureen says, "Once you understand where you went wrong, she'll personally give demonstrate the correct way to follow the Howels' rules."

Maureen slams the iron shutters closed, plunging the room into complete darkness. Avery can hear her footsteps crunching on the gravel as she walks away.

The room is damp, and it smells of mold. Avery knows that moss and mushrooms growing on the damp walls, and she's grateful she can't see it all. Though the bed is cold and hard, it's drier than the rest of the room.

Avery curls up on the bed, but she feels the damp and cold seep into her bones. Although it's almost summer, she shakes and trembles as if she's freezing. Eventually, she falls into a fitful sleep. When she wakes, she has no idea how long she's slept, but a beam of light shines through a chink in the shutters. The light casts an irregular, four-lined pattern where it hits the wall.

Avery hears footsteps from afar. Slowly, they seem to approach the cottage. Then she hears voices.

"Mrs. Florence Howel asked us to hunt game for Miss Summer's birthday a few days from now," one voice says, "Usually, she only asks us to do that when a president or foreign dignitary is coming. I guess that means the rumors are true."

"What rumors?" asks another voice.

"Haven't you heard that Mr. and Mrs. Howel signed divorce papers in secret," says the first, "They say Evan is getting a new wife. Why else would Mrs. Florence Howel tell us to celebrate Miss Summer's birthday and not Avery's? They're the same day, you know."

"Oh," says the second, "I was wondering why so many people had started referring to Miss Summer as Mrs. Howel."

"They're trying to flatter her and curry favor," says the first, "Did you know that Mrs. Florence Howel hired some celebrities and famous PR agents to manage Miss Summers' social media? Mr. Francis Howel's servants told me that she's been praising Miss Summers in front of him for weeks. It's possible that he called Evan away to pressure him into marrying Miss Summers. Maybe this birthday celebration will turn into an engagement party."

"I pity Avery," sighs the second, "I heard that Mrs. Howel put her in dark cottage."

"It's her fault for putting Evan in harm's way," retorts the first, "Mrs. Howel was right to get angry."

Avery knows that there are always rumors in the Howel's house. It's almost impossible to keep a secret because so many people share the house. Information always gets out, and when it does it spreads like wildfire.

Avery curls up tighter. She finds their voices loud and annoying. She weakly rolls over, trying to find a position in which the sun doesn't bother her. Before she can get comfortable, she hears the lock scraping. She blinks and sees a figure silhouetted against the bright light. The figure's shadow crosses the room, and Avery squints to try to identify the person; when she recognizes Leonie, she braces herself for the other woman's petty torments.

Leonie drags Avery from the bed and slaps her across the face. Avery's neck jerks sideways with pain, and she inadvertently bites her cheek. She tastes blood.

"I'm slapping you on Evan's behalf!" Leonie announces self-righteously.

The slap fails to quell Leonie's anger—instead, it seems to aggravate it. She points accusingly at Avery.

"It's your fault that Evan is still in a coma," she hisses, "Why do you always get him hurt? Why aren't you hurt instead?"

The pain on Avery's face pales in comparison to the pain Leonie's words create. She can't believe that Evan hasn't woken up yet, and she wonders what's wrong with him.

"It's a good thing you're getting divorced," Leonie spits, "Mrs. Howel was right when she called you a black widow. If Evan stays with you, you'll get him killed sooner or later."

Leonie slaps Avery again, leaving a mark on her cheek. Before Leonie can move away, Avery grabs her manicured hand and twists her finger backward. If Leonie moves too quickly, Avery

"Who are you to worry so much about Evan?" Avery sneers, "Are you speaking as his future wife?"