The way to the car felt more like I was being escorted, to prevent me from running somewhere else again. It did not feel like the usual morning stroll I always do.

Two maids were walking in front of me, their steps in sync. Even though they were ahead of me, I am pretty sure their attention wasn’t whatever was in front of them but rather on my actions.

Behind me, three maids were walking with their heads hanging low. It seemed their gazes were fixed on the porcelain floor, afraid of meeting my eyes, thinking that I might ask another question if they looked at me.

Kate, on the...