Cinder sat on her small bed, tears streaming down her face. She packed her few belongings into a bag. Her heart felt heavy. How could the sauce have gone so wrong? She had tasted it just an hour before. It was perfect.
Downstairs, Clovis was still angry. He apologized to his guests and sent them home. The quiet of the mansion felt different now. It was filled with his shame and anger. He walked into the kitchen, staring at the ruined food. Something felt wrong. Cinder was never careless. She was always precise and careful.
He remembered the security system. There were small cameras in the hallways for safety. He went to his office and turned on his computer. He found the footage from the kitchen hallway. He fast-forwarded to the time before the dinner.
His blood ran cold.
He saw Cinder leave the kitchen, looking worried. A moment later, he saw Darla sneak in. She looked around, then grabbed the salt shaker. She poured all of it into the sauce and stirred it quickly before running out.
It wasn't Cinder's fault. She had been sabotaged.
A wave of guilt washed over him. He had been so quick to blame her. He had shouted at her. He had seen the hurt in her eyes and ignored it.
He ran out of his office. "Cinder!" he called, his voice echoing through the mansion. But there was no answer. He rushed to her room. It was empty.
His heart pounded. Was he too late? He ran to the front door and threw it open just in time. Cinder was at the end of the long driveway, carrying her bag, waiting for a taxi.
"Cinder! Wait!" he shouted, running toward her.
She turned, surprised. Her eyes were red from crying.
He stopped in front of her, breathing heavily. "I know what happened," he said, his voice full of emotion. "I saw the security tape. It was Darla. She ruined the sauce."
Cinder stared at him, her lips trembling.
"I was wrong," Clovis said, his voice soft. "I was so wrong to doubt you. Please, don't go. Come back."
He looked into her eyes, his cold mask completely gone. For the first time, he was showing his true feelings. He was begging.
Cinder stood frozen, the weight of his words sinking in. The taxi pulled up to the curb, its engine humming. She looked from the car her escape back to Clovis. His usual icy composure was shattered. He looked vulnerable, his hair messy from running, his eyes pleading.
All the hurt and humiliation she had felt moments before battled with the memory of their quiet hour in the library, and the soft "thank you" after the tomato soup. She saw the genuine regret in his gaze.
"The job the money it's important to me," she whispered, her voice shaky. "But I can't work where I'm not trusted."
"You should be trusted," Clovis said firmly, taking a step closer. "It was my failure, not yours. I let my anger control me. I saw what they were like, your family, and I still... I am so sorry, Cinder."
He said her name not as an employer, but as a person who had wronged her and was desperately asking for forgiveness.
The taxi driver honked lightly, a question.
Cinder took a deep breath, looking at the man standing in front of her, who was finally seeing her. Not just as a cook, but as a person he had hurt and did not want to lose.
She turned to the taxi driver and gave a small wave. "I'm sorry, I'm not going."
She looked back at Clovis. A single tear escaped, but she gave a small, hesitant nod. "Okay," she said softly. "I'll stay."
The relief that washed over Clovis's face was immense. He reached out, as if to take her bag, his hand brushing against hers. It was a simple touch, but it felt like a new beginning.