No Need for More Words

1
My mother died from overwork.
She worked three jobs to afford the mortgage on our house, the one in the good school district.
Before she took her last breath, she gripped my hand. Clara, she whispered, you have to keep studying. Your education is your life.
I was ten. I didnt fully understand.
Six months later, my father brought a new woman home.
Her name was Gable, and she came with a daughter in tow named Willow.
She was timid, her eyes like a frightened fawns whenever she looked at you.
My father said, Clara, this is your sister. Youre older. You need to be mature about this.
I felt the small passbook my mother had left me in my pocket and nodded.
It held only five hundred dollars, the last of my mothers private savings.
2
Our home was a two-bedroom apartment.
I used to have my own room.
The day after Mrs. Gable moved in, she was stroking Willows hair and sighed to my father.
Willow is such a light sleeper. Her room is right by the road, and the traffic the poor thing woke up startled several times last night
My father glanced at me, his eyes shifting away. Clara, youre the big sister. Let Willow have the second bedroom.
I stared at him.
He looked away, pretending to search for a lighter.
Okay, I said.
I moved into the converted storage room on the balcony.
It was where we used to keep junk and the washing machine.
In the winter, drafts cut through the thin walls. In the summer, it was a sauna.
While cleaning it out, I swept up a dry, shriveled cockroach from a corner.
I didnt scream.
I just wrapped it in a tissue and threw it in the trash.
3
That night, Willow knocked on the glass door of my new room.
She was holding a plate of sliced fruit.
Sister, this is for you.
They were cherries.
My mother had never bought them. Too expensive, shed said.
I took the plate.
Sister, she said, dont be mad at Dad. And dont be mad at my mom.
I didnt say anything.
She left.
I placed the plate of cherries on the windowsill.
By the next morning, they were covered in mold.
Willow started piano lessons, ballet, painting.
The money for her tutors came from selling the gold jewelry my mother had bought years ago.
My stepmother would say, A girl needs a bit of polish to land a good husband. Clara, why dont you sit in on a lesson?
I was scrubbing my sneakers by the door, my hands covered in soap suds.
No, thanks. I have homework.
I started studying relentlessly.
I used the old textbooks Willow had thrown out, scribbling notes on the blank back pages.
The storage room had no heating. In winter, my hands would get so cold I could barely hold a pen. Id fill a hot water bottle and clutch it to my chest, relying on that small pocket of warmth to get me through another vocabulary list, one word at a time.
My mother told me my education was my armor.
4
When I was twenty-two, the Vance Corporation posted a job opening for an executive assistant to the CEO.
The requirements were sky-high.
Multilingual, versed in business etiquette, impeccable background, and willing to live in.
But the salary was five times that of a typical office job.
When my stepmother heard, her eyes lit up.
Her first thought was for Willow.
Shed heard the Vance heir, Justin Vance, was incredibly handsome and the sole successor to the empire.
If Willow could get close to him, it would be the score of a lifetime.
But a few days later, she came back with new information.
Justin Vance was a cold-hearted demon, with a temper so fierce his last assistant had run out sobbing.
The job also required signing a strict non-disclosure agreement and offered almost no personal time.
Willow burst into tears, terrified.
My stepmother called both of us to the living room.
The Vances are a top-tier family, but they have so many rules. I hear its a very demanding job. Willow is too sensitive I couldnt bear to see her suffer.
She took my hand, her face a mask of loving concern.
Clara, why dont you give it a try? Youre steady. You can handle hardship. And with that salary, you could pay for Willows graduate program abroad.
My father sat on the sofa, the TV volume turned up loud, pretending he couldnt hear a thing.
I looked at my stepmothers eager face, then at Willow.
Willow was picking at her freshly manicured nails. Sister, she whispered, Im scared
Okay, I said.
5
The interview at the Vance Corporation was rigorous.
They tested my language skills, my logical reasoning, reviewed my medical reports, and ran a background check three generations deep.
The interviewer asked me, With your qualifications, you could get a job at any top international firm. Why apply for this position?
I answered calmly, Because I need the money.
The interviewer gave me a long, searching look.
I was hired.
Life at the Vance estate was a different kind of difficult.
The rules were more numerous than lines of code. One wrong step was not an option.
But the pay was real, the food and board were covered, and there were endless benefits.
I was assigned to Justin Vances private villa, responsible for his personal affairs and some of his documents.
Justin was, as rumored, not an easy man to serve.
He spoke little, was relentlessly demanding, and a complete workaholic.
He often held international conference calls in his study until the dead of night.
I had to be on standby, ready to make coffee, organize materials, or take notes at a moments notice.
He rarely gave direct orders.
He would just glance at something, and I was expected to know what he needed.
I learned quickly. I remembered everything.
He only drank dark-roast coffee, served at precisely eighty-five degrees Celsius.
He had a habit of using a blue fountain pen for his annotations.
Within six months, I was the one usually on duty in the study.
Once, exhausted from a merger case, he pinched the bridge of his nose and asked, Have you read this file?
I glanced at it while organizing, I answered truthfully.
And?
Theres an issue with the cash flow on their financial statement. The third-quarter accounts receivable are unusually high. It doesnt make sense.
He looked up at me, then asked nothing more.
Two days later, he tossed a thick stack of all-English due diligence reports onto my desk. Proofread this. Find any gaps.
I took it. Yes, sir.
The report was dense with technical jargon. I spent hours on it, making detailed notes on sticky tabs.
He reviewed my work and said nothing.
After that, he occasionally had me handle less sensitive business emails.
My salary rose accordingly.
6
Three years flew by.
I was twenty-five, a veteran by his side.
People in the company called me Ms. Cheng, with a mixture of respect and fear.
In October, the Vance Corporation held its anniversary gala.
All the citys elites and top executives were invited.
Justin was required to attend, and he named me to accompany him.
It was the first time I had appeared with him at such a public social event.
I wore the standard high-end professional attire, my hair pulled back in a severe, perfect bun.
The gala was held in the top-floor ballroom of the corporate headquarters. The lights were dazzling, the sound of a cello rich and melodic.
I walked half a step behind Justin, my head slightly bowed, my job to field unwanted conversations and hand out business cards.
The room buzzed with chatter, with flattery.
Justin was a man of few words, offering a curt response here and there, his gaze cool and distant.
I focused on my task, my senses sharp.
Until a familiar, timid voice drifted toward me.
Mom, is that Mr. Vance? Hes even more handsome in person than in the magazines
My fingers faltered.
I lifted my eyes, following the sound.
Near the dessert table, on the outskirts of the main crowd, a young woman in a pink gown was on her tiptoes, staring dreamily in Justins direction.
It was Willow.
She had matured, looking even more delicate and lovely.
Her dress was from a major designers new collection. Not cheap.
My stepmother stood beside her, craning her neck, her face glowing with vicarious pride.
They hadnt seen me.
7
Justin was speaking to someone, but his peripheral vision caught my momentary pause.
Without turning, he asked in a low voice, Whats wrong?
I immediately dropped my gaze and took a champagne flute from him. Nothing, sir. A little spilled.
He grunted in acknowledgment.
Midway through the evening, Justin stepped out onto the terrace for some air.
As always, I followed.
We passed through a set of French doors, leaving the noise behind.
As we walked by a decorative arrangement of champagne roses, the chatter of a few interns reached us.
Its so hard to get an internship at Vance, but just seeing Mr. Vance makes it all worth it.
I heard he has an assistant, a Ms. Cheng, whos supposed to be incredible
Please. No matter how incredible she is, shes still just an assistant. Does she really think shes the lady of the house?
It was Willows voice. Laughing, but with a sharp, acidic edge.
I didnt break my stride.
But Justin suddenly stopped.
He turned his head slightly, his gaze sweeping past the roses, catching a glimpse of the figures behind them.
You know them? he asked, his voice even.
I stood half a step behind him, my eyes on the floor.
A cool autumn breeze drifted over, carrying the scent of roses.
I heard my own voice, clear and steady.
No.
They just look familiar.
They look a lot like the sister who made me sleep in a storage room, and then sent me here to be your maid.
Justin said nothing.
He turned and continued walking.
I followed.
I didnt look back at the roses again.
8
After the gala that night, I returned to the villa as usual.
Jenna, another assistant who lived there, hurried over, her eyes sparkling.
Clara, did you see? Some of those big-shot CEOs were checking you out all night.
I didnt notice, I said, taking off my earrings.
Seriously! And Mr. Vance she lowered her voice.
When he came back from the terrace, I swear he looked at you a few extra times.
Dont be ridiculous, I said, placing the earrings in their box.
Get some sleep. We have to prepare the materials for the morning meeting.
The next day, it was business as usual. Coffee, files, scheduling.
In the afternoon, Justin handed me a report. Review the departmental budgets for next month.
Yes, sir.
I opened it. It was fresh from the finance department.
One line item caught my eye: Two additional full-time positions for interns in the Public Relations department.
PR was the most glamorous department in the company.
There were no recent plans for expansion.
I took my pen and wrote a small note in the margin:
No current expansion needs for PR. Roster questionable. Please verify.
When Justin took the report back, he glanced at my note but said nothing.
9
Two days later, the head of HR came to find me.
Mrs. Vance wanted to see me.
A knot tightened in my stomach.
The matriarch lived at the familys old estate and rarely involved herself in corporate affairs.
I followed the director to the estate. Mrs. Vance was in the conservatory, pruning an orchid.
She was in her fifties but impeccably preserved, radiating a calm, regal air.
I bowed respectfully.
Youre the Cheng girl? The one working for Justin?
Yes, maam.
I hear you took this job in your sisters place?
Yes. My family was in financial difficulty at the time. My sister was young and timid, and my stepmother couldnt bear to part with her, so I came instead.
A sensible child, she said, snipping off a withered leaf.
Now that you are with the Vance family, you are one of us. The past is the past. You should learn to let it go.
I understand, maam.
Good. She gestured for me to have some tea.
Next month, were hosting a small family dinner for some old friends. Youll accompany Justin. Be meticulous.
Yes, maam.
When I left, my back was damp with sweat.
Mrs. Vances words were a mixture of praise, promotion, and a clear warning.
She knew about Willow. And she knew about our relationship.
10
Life went on.
The documents Justin gave me to handle grew in complexity.
Sometimes it was a simple itinerary; other times, a summary report from an overseas branch.
I was meticulous. I made no mistakes.
He never offered praise. When I returned his work, his fingertip would sometimes pause on a certain point, or he would give the slightest grunt.
I learned to understand. This part was correct. This part needed more thought.
Willow and my stepmother had somehow managed to get jobs at Vance.
Willow was an intern in PR, and my stepmother was a supervisor for the cleaning crew in logistics.
Once, when I was in the finance department filing an expense report, I saw Willow from a distance, carrying a stack of files.
She was laughing with some male colleagues, still dressed in designer labels, her cheeks rosy.
She saw me. Her smile froze for a second before she turned away, pretending not to know me.
I didn't linger. I signed my papers and left.
My stepmother, however, cornered me in the break room one day.
She was beaming, holding a thermal container. Clara, now that were both at this big company, were still family
I sidestepped the soup she offered. Is there something you need, Mrs. Gable?
Her expression faltered. Dont be like that Its just, your sister in PR her intern salary is so low. Youre in Mr. Vances good graces now. Could you maybe talk to HR, get her a permanent position ahead of schedule?
No, I cut her off.
The company has procedures. Im just an assistant. I cant help.
I walked around her and left.
As I walked away, I heard her mutter under her breath, Ungrateful wretch.
11
The day before the family dinner, Justin had me go to the storeroom to select some gifts for the old estate.
The storeroom manager was a veteran employee. He squinted at the request form I handed him.
Well, well, Ms. Cheng in person? Mr. Vance must think highly of you.
I showed him my ID badge. Youre too kind, Mr. Lee. Im just running an errand.
He checked my badge and ambled off to retrieve the items.
I waited outside the door and overheard two junior clerks gossiping inside.
Did you hear? That new woman in logistics, Mrs. Gable, has sticky fingers. She was caught on camera taking leftover tea bags and pastries from a conference room
Tsk. She just got here. Isnt her daughter in PR? She looks like such an innocent girl
Innocent? Please. The other day she tried to get up to the executive floor, but the secretaries stopped her
I felt nothing.
Mr. Lee came out with the items. I checked the list, signed, and left.
On my way back, I passed the PR departments floor. I saw Willow touching up her makeup in a compact mirror, her eyes darting toward the elevators.
I walked past, holding the gift boxes.
She saw me, bit her lip, but didn't dare to speak.
12
The family dinner was a much more private affair than the corporate gala.
The guests were mostly old family friends and their children. The atmosphere was relaxed.
I remained by Justins side.
He wore a casual grey suit, which softened his sharp edges, making him look more refined.
But his expression was still distant, offering only a slight nod to the elders who greeted him.
Halfway through the meal, a girl in a white dress suddenly appeared, holding a plate of sliced fruit, and approached Justin.
Mr. Vance, Mrs. Vance had the kitchen prepare some fresh melon for you.
Her voice was soft and sweet. It was Willow.
She had somehow managed to join the serving staff at the estate.
She was clearly dressed for the occasion, her hair in soft curls, her face made up to look naturally flawless.
The chatter at the tables quieted. Several pairs of eyes turned our way.
Justin looked up, his gaze falling first on the plate, then on her.
Willows cheeks flushed, her eyes shimmering.
I stood behind Justin, my head down, motionless.
Justin didnt take the plate. He spoke to the head butler standing nearby.
Take this. Distribute it among the children.
The butler stepped forward.
Willows face went pale. She let go of the plate, flustered.
She seemed to want to say something more, but Justin had already turned to speak with an old family friend beside him.
She was stuck, unable to move forward or retreat.
The butler prompted her in a low voice, Shouldnt you be leaving?
She bit her lip, her eyes red, and finally backed away.
I never once looked up.
As the melon was passed around, I heard one of the ladies laugh softly.
That serving girl is certainly pretty. A little too ambitious, though.
Another murmured in agreement, Indeed. She doesnt know her place.
The dinner continued as if nothing had happened.
13
After the guests had left, I was in the private lounge, gathering the documents Justin had left there.
He was still there, sitting on the sofa, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest.
The girl who served the fruit today, he said suddenly. That was your sister?
My hand paused. Yes.
Your thoughts?
I put down the briefcase and stood properly.
Mr. Vance, in my opinion, a formal dinner at the estate has its own etiquette. To approach you unbidden, to curry favor so blatantly, is a transgression. She should be handled according to the house rules.
He was silent for a moment.
Youre impartial.
Im stating a fact.
He stood up and walked to the window, gazing out at the darkened garden.
According to the rules, what is the procedure?
A minor offense would be a pay deduction. A major one would be termination, with a permanent ban from re-employment.
He didnt turn around. Then follow the rules.
Yes, sir.
You will deliver the message.
I froze. Me?
What? He turned to face me.
Is it difficult for you?
Not difficult, but shouldnt this be handled by the butler?
I want you to do it. Tell them it comes from me.
A knot formed in my chest. I lowered my head. Very well.

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