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I found some rags—not the cleanest, but hey—and turned the tap on to fill the sink, trying not to breathe all the while. It didn’t really work. As I shifted the dishes out of the right side of the sink to create a rinsing area, a roach crawled out of a mug, causing me to scream and jump backwards.

“Ew ew ew ew ew,” I sobbed, feeling the creepy-crawling feeling as if they were all over my skin. My neck hairs were standing up. If there was one roach, then there were sure to be more, and they were probably watching me, weren’t they? And what else lurked in the piles of clothing and trash? The thought made me want to run screaming from the house.

The entire process was harrowing. I worried that there were things in the water, things that could crawl up my arms under my sleeves or bite or something. And the combination of fear and disgust was beginning to mess with my head.

“So, he’s gotten himself a real lady, eh?”

I froze and turned around. I could have sworn someone was talking, but all I could see was grime and clutter. “Hello?” I wondered if someone was hiding behind the refrigerator or the stove, or maybe behind the table with its single cleared-off spot.

There was no answer, not even another sound. It had to be my imagination then. Yet as I turned back to my washing, goose bumps trembled up my arms, and I felt extremely nervous.

“That’s it,” I blubbered. “I’m going home.” I abandoned the dishes and almost ran out into the hall. It was even more cluttered than I remembered, and doors lined either side. A door at the end of the hall was positioned right next to a window, and I ran to it as if there was a wave of fire behind me. I grasped the handle and threw it open.

Instead of the outside, which I had expected, there was a wall. A real wall made of brick. I stared at it for a few seconds and then glanced toward the window. That was outside, all right. I could see the city skyline. I jerked the pane upward and stuck my head out, craning it sideways. I saw regular house siding where the door was supposed to be. My mind buzzed. A fake doorway? Why on earth…

I turned and ran back down the corridor, panting as I reached the other side. There was a stairwell going down and up, and quickly, skipping every other step, I bolted down the stairs. There was another door on the next landing, and I almost expected there to be another wall. I wouldn’t have been surprised. Instead, there was a corridor, this time really, really small. I backed up as soon as I stepped in. No way.

“Elke! What are you doing?”

I whirled, crestfallen. Of course. Sage was at the top of the stairs, looking quizzical.

“Get back in the kitchen,” he said, pursing his lips. “Come on. I’m really getting hungry!”

I was speechless. What in the world had I gotten myself into? A moment later, I found myself once again in the kitchen, this time digging through a large stack of dirty, crusty pans in order to find one to wash and use. By the time I cleared off the stove and started the heat, Sage was back.

“Done yet?” he whined. “I’m hungry, Elke!”

I stood akimbo before him. “Don’t boss me around!” He was just a kid, after all. A whiny, crazy little kid… I pointed to the table. “Clean this.”

“What?” he glanced to where I pointed.

“Clean off the table,” I growled, crossing my arms. “You put all this stuff on it, so you clean it off!”

He gaped, and then turned—sheepishly, I’d like to think—to start hefting plates to the sink. I was a little surprised that he did it so readily. I hadn’t been expecting him to. In fact, I was a bit shocked at it, and soon he was frowning at me.

“Get to it,” he snapped. “Come on! And don’t forget the meat!”

“Meat?” I had only managed to find a lone box of macaroni and cheese, and had hoped that would hold us over until someone went shopping. I gritted my teeth, letting out a snort of breath. Why should I be worrying about this? I should have just run, run back to the hotel room and stripped and sunk under the cold, refreshing water of the shower. Then I could have slept, and in the morning worked on homework, and then taken a long shift at work, and visit Mom…

“Once we’re done here,” Sage said, “I’ll show you to your room.”

I glanced at him. There was a look of extreme concentration on his face as he waddled back and forth under the weight of his dirty dishes. I had to admit, he didn’t seem so bad, with his sweet baby face and small stature—

“Chop chop,” he grumbled, loudly. “Where’s the meat?”

I let out a frustrated breath—again—and went to the freezer, finding and pulling out a frosty bag of what looked like chicken breasts.

“But I want hamburgers,” he said, and it was almost like an order.

I gritted my teeth. “You’ll get this tonight. You can have hamburgers some other time.”

“But Elke,” he whined. “I want a hamburger now.”

“Too bad.” I was irritated as I turned back to find a sheet pan. “It’s not like I’m your mother.” I had no obligation whatsoever to this child, and there was no way I was going to bow to his wishes. But what was I doing here…?

“Elke!” he spat, and I was a bit startled at the tone of his voice. “You are working for me, and you will do as I say!”

I think the expression on my face must have been a first. I’d never been talked to like this in my life. Even my bosses were kinder than this. I wondered just how big his ego was. His parents must have been insanely rich and stuck up, to have communicated this amount of haughtiness into their son.

My hands balled into fists, and I slammed the food and the pan down on the stove top. And then, I whirled on him, sure my face was crimson with anger. “You won’t talk to me that way,” I gasped. And with that I was out of the door in a huff, ready to sprint in order to get out of this place.

“Elke!” He came after me, his face wide with shock. He probably hadn’t expected this insubordination.

I ran, surprised to see another corridor—a very slim one that fit in almost seamlessly with the wall—and ducked in, sprinting. There was a door off to one side, and a steep stairwell that looked far too perilous to attempt to climb. The door had a window in it, and I was sure it opened up to the outside.

The next thing I knew, I was hanging. It was at least second story, but it might have been third. I wasn’t sure how high up I was. All I could comprehend was that I was suspended in the air, with the ground far below. This was not what I meant by ‘outside’. I began to scream, flailing my legs, grasping the doorknob with one hand and trying to heft myself up, back inside, with my other. The door looked ready to splinter under my weight, and for a second I thought I heard it. I let go and grabbed the doorframe, straining to get back up.

Sage came to my rescue. I was surprised at his strength, as he hefted me back up. His hands were bigger than I remembered, enveloping mine. Soon I lay on the floor shaking, panting, wanting to cry and not wanting to show it. I swear I tucked the same strand of hair behind my ear about fifteen times.

“You scared me,” he said, his little face looking genuinely relieved. He rested a hand on mine, almost caringly, and I saw his hands really were small. I must have been imagining things… It took a few minutes to regain my composure, and even then I was flustered.

“I forgot to tell you,” he sighed. “This house was built just like the Winchester Mystery House. Of course, I don’t think that ghosts will come to kill me if I stop building. We have stopped, by the way. It wasn’t that long ago…”

“Mystery… House?”

“You know the Winchester Rifle, right? Well, something about the heir to the fortune, and she believed that all the souls killed by that gun would come to kill her if he ever stopped building. Now, it’s full of doors and stairs and things… Some of them go nowhere.”

I stared at him. “Huh…?”

“So don’t be doing things like that,” he said, crossing his arms. “You could get lost, or worse. And I don’t want to have to find another housekeeper after such a short time actually having one.”

I found I was unable to move. My legs felt boneless.

“Well then,” Sage said cheerfully. “Let’s go back to the kitchen!”

I refused to get up.