"There's that empty room next to the housekeeper's quarters, isn't there? Clean it out and you're set."

"It's only temporary anyway. Once Willow recovers, you can move back."

That room had been meant for live-in staff. The light was terrible, so it had become a dumping ground for storage.

And now Orson was asking me—his wife, the lady of this house—to live in a storage closet. For a stranger.

Willow came padding down the stairs in my slippers.

"Orson, is Renata upset?"

"Maybe I should take that room instead…" She bit her lip, tears springing up on command. "Even though the System said if I don't sleep in the master bedroom tonight, it'll paralyze my legs…"

Orson immediately pulled her close, his voice thick with concern.

"Don't say that! As long as I'm here, no one's paralyzing anything."

He turned to me, his tone hardening.

"Renata, can you stop being so petty? Do you want to watch Willow become crippled?"

"It's just switching rooms for a few days. Why are you making such a fuss?"

"We have such a good life now—blessed by fate, really. Would it kill you to do something kind? Build some good karma?"

Blessed by fate?

I nearly laughed out loud.

There's no fate. No blessing. I traded my life for yours.

I looked at Orson's self-righteous face, and the last ripple of feeling in my heart went still.

"Fine."

I nodded.

"Since her constitution is so delicate, let her have it."

"But Orson—remember this."

"Some positions, once surrendered, can never be reclaimed."

Orson's brow furrowed. He seemed to sense something beneath my words, but Willow's wheedling voice quickly pulled his attention away.

"Orson, baby, I want a big soaking tub in the master bath—one of those ones with massage jets..."

"Done! Whatever you want!"

I dragged my suitcase into the damp, windowless storage room.

The door clicked shut, sealing away their laughter.

[Deprivation Progress: 40%]

[Orson Gilbert's fortune is draining rapidly. Host, starting tonight, his sleep quality will plummet. Nightmares will plague him.]

I made up the narrow cot and lay down on the unforgiving boards.

"Perfect."

"Let him get acquainted with nightmares first. Consider it... preparation for his future."

Sometime past midnight, a blood-curdling scream tore through the ceiling above me.

I didn't bother getting up. Just rolled over and went back to sleep.

The next few days, the house descended into chaos.