The Killing of Julien Jean - Team Secrets Decameron 2.0 Project

VENGANZA DEL CORAZÓN By ThoughtsOnPaper

"¡Alondra, apúrate!" Martina called out, dragging a laundry basket behind. "Stop dawdling and help me!"

Her cousin's adenoidal voice pulled her out of her daydream. She ran towards Martina and grabbed the other side of the basket. She grunted at the weight of wet bedsheets and blankets. "We just washed these the other day." Changing Julien Jean Bouvier's bed covers was almost a daily chore. The frequency of the washing was perplexing. "Can't we wash the beddings once a week instead? We do have other duties. These sheets will fade and thin out if we're washing–"

"Señor Julien likes his beddings fresh," Martina explained tersely. "The condition of his sheets is none of our concern. He has plenty of money. He can afford to replace the worn ones." They both lowered the hamper to the ground. "Start hanging. I want them dry before sunset."

Alondra lifted a heavy linen from the hamper and tossed it over the line. Her dark brown eyes squinted as the Puerto Rican sun shone over them. It was a beautiful sunny day in San Juan; the washing will definitely dry before the sun sets.

Alondra Cabral Zepeda started working at the Bouvier mansion three weeks ago. Before that, she was in her hometown of Fajardo, working alongside her mother and grandmother. Coming from a long line of farmers and servants, her hands knew what hard work and manual labour were. She was only twelve when she was employed at Hacienda Garza as a scullery maid. Being the youngest worker, she was the easiest one to pick on. To avoid the scorn of the higher ranking servants, she worked hard. She woke up before the rest of the household, and she was the last one to go to bed. She never complained. Alondra took every hurtful word in, apologised for faults that were never hers, then carried on with her duties. At the end of the day, once she was alone, she would vent through her tears, lash out the words she couldn't say to their faces. She reminded herself that everything was part of a day's work. This was something she had to endure. It was part of a servant's life after all.

Seven years went quick for the humble servant. She moved to be the cook's kitchen maid for a while until she became one of the between maids. Her life was going smoothly until a letter from San Juan arrived.

¡Hola querida Abuela!

I hope this letter finds you well. I wish I could say the same for myself.

It has been over six months, and I still regret coming to San Juan to work.

I shouldn't have left.

I miss you all everyday. I want to go home, Abuela, but I have a

contract with the devil. I wish I have the courage to runaway but Señor Julien

is a very powerful man. I fear He will find me even if I hide. Lord only knows

what he can do. I swear he must be the Satán in the flesh!

I wish I had family here. If I did, life in this hell will be bearable.

¡Madre de Dios! I think I can hear him calling. I must go. Please pray

for me, Abuela.

Tu nieta,

Martina

Distressed by the letter, their grandmother, Eugenia, decided to travel to San Juan to reason with the devil. Tagging Alondra with her, they caught the earliest train out of Fajardo.

San Juan took Alondra's breath away. The robust walls of the fortresses made her feel like she was walking through a castle. Her dusky skin soaked up the sun's warmth. The crisp blue ocean and it's hushing waves reminded her of the shores of home. She wanted to run off and explore the streets, but not today.