"If the children play a horrible trick, tell an adult."

They were always Miss Martha's words. She said adults knew best, that they were there to help you. Sometimes the children played tricks on her. They pulled out rugs from under her feet, deliberately dirtied the hallways she was supposed to be cleaning, and one time they pushed her down the stairs. She wasn't seriously injured, but the creases in her withered face deepened in the sick room. Who did she tell when the children played horrible tricks?

Mr Hoffman said I was an adult. "Sixteen" he beamed proudly, curling a strand of my hair in his fingers, "You've reached womanhood."

Miss Martha didn't feel the same way. She assigned me duties like the rest of the children, though they were quickly dismissed by Mr Hoffman with a "No no Clara, stay at your place. You're just where I want you." This annoyed her, with flashes of anger in her eyes. She'd open her mouth to protest, but quickly shut it and walk out. Perhaps the duties she tried to give me didn't necessarily mean I was a child. Maybe she realised I was grown but wanted to be fair to the others. But when would the others recognise fair?

I never participated. I had a place. Mr Hoffman said I had a place. It wasn't in the aristocrat club, and I was happier for it, wasn't I? Surely it was better? His voice was husky at night. He drawled "Clara- you're not part of their silly games." And I wasn't. He would then get up and leave. I felt filthier myself, I didn't want their games, none of their games, they could all leave.

Sometimes I wondered if Miss Martha understood, but I was also afraid of that outcome. She cornered me once in the sick room, when Mr Hoffman was teaching the others. I didn't expect her to ask questions, but she did. Scary, quickfire questions. I answered them of course. Mr Hoffman said always to obey adults.

"Where were you last night at dinner?"

"I was in here Miss Martha, I was tending to Wendy."

"Wendy was at dinner. Why didn't you come?"

"I had to stay up here Miss Martha."

"Why so?"

"Because Mr Hoffman had business to attend to." I answered. The look on her face, with her narrowing eyes and knowing nod of the head, showed me that I may have said the wrong answer. I wanted to correct it the statement, but what with? What would I be implying? She said nothing for a while. My heart began to thud. Finally, she bent down so she was my height.

"Why couldn't he tend to something himself?" she asked gently. I was at a loss for words. What do I-? How do I-?

I elbowed past her. I couldn't answer, I couldn't tell.