Chapter 7

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I woke up and knew it immediately it was very late. Outside my windows it was dark and all the lights in my room were off and a blanket was draped over me. 

I rubbed my eyes and everything came flooding back into my head and I flopped back down on the bed, too exhausted to get up despite the long nap I had just taken. There was the hospital trip and the shopping trip and running into Gaston and yelling at Elias in the lobby of his own building... I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand and rolled over. I saw the business card and taped on top was a little note in neat handwriting. 

Come see me immediately! ~Mrs. Potts it read. I threw the blanket off me and ran out of the room towards the kitchen with the note clutched tightly in my hand. 

I pushed open the door and she was sitting at the table, calmly sipping tea and reading the newspaper. She looked up when I came in and then at the note in my hand. "My dear I think you have some explaining to do. And you should start with your outing with Mr. Adams and how you came into possession of that card," she said softly, grabbing another tea cup and placing it in front of her. 

I sat down and ran a hand through my hair nervously and told her everything. Visiting my father, the shopping trip, and how when I stormed out of the store I ran into Gaston and he told me about the medicine that could cure my father. Mrs. Potts pursed her lips at that but stayed quiet as I recounted going to the office and then our fight in the elevator. When I had finished the tea was cold and my face was flushed from the talking and all the emotions I was feeling. 

"Well my dear, I think that cure is a loud of malarkey," Mrs. Potts said, standing as she grabbed the tea cups and began washing them in the sink. 

"I know, I know, I just... I miss him so much," I muttered miserably, placing my head in my hands.

"I know dear, I know," she answered, coming up beside me and stroking my hair. "Go get some rest alright? I'll see you in morning." She kissed the top of my head and I smiled weakly as I stood and made my way back to my room. Before climbing in bed I picked up the business card and shoved it deep inside my closet where no one would ever find it. Hopefully.

*************
Two weeks passed and Elias and I barely spoke a word to each other. I didn't sit with him in his study anymore when he had his tea, and he didn't eat his meals much at home, if he came home at all. Apparently work was getting heavy as the holiday season approached and he spent almost all his time in his office. Lumiere told me he had another private office in the building that was basically a small apartment; only a handful of people knew about it. I wished a little I could go back but the risk of Elias catching me was too much to bare.

So one day when I came downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast, it was only Mrs. Potts putting on her coat and hat. It was snowing outside after days of predicted weather, and I loved the sight of the fresh fallen snow on the front lawn, completely untouched. 

"Where are you going?" I asked, pushing the door open. 

"I need to go to the store, the other two were too busy today," she told me, wrapping a scarf around her neck. She reached for a piece of paper on the table and handed it to me. It was a list of chores to do and I groaned. "I'm sorry dear, but it must be done. I should be back a little after lunch and then I'll help you with what you haven't finished okay?" 

I nodded and reached for an apple in the fruit basket. 

"And remember, don't go into the west wing!" Mrs. Potts shouted as she ran out the door to her waiting taxi. 

I sighed and finished eating my apple before examining the list closer. I had to clean the chandelier, mop, dust and vacuum the entire bottom floor and then wax the marble. Sighing, I grabbed my cleaning supplies and the ladder and got to work on the chandelier in the front hall of the house. After I finished that and sneezed for five minutes, I started my other tasks and soon enough I was standing at the entrance to the west wing with my vacuum. 

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