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“To welcome him home.”

Doña Teresa gave a humorless laugh. “Marcela returned with a Syndicate captain. You offer cake.”

Heat crept up my neck, but I lowered my eyes.

“Father likes it.”

“Your father likes women who make themselves useful.” She glanced at the basket again. “Perhaps sweetness is the only thing you have left to offer.”

“Yes, Doña Teresa.”

She waited for me to react.

I kept stirring.

Eventually, she turned to Marta. “Make sure she changes before dinner. Señor Delgado will not want a floured mess near his table.”

Then she left as abruptly as she’d entered.

The room slowly came back to life.

I poured the batter into the pan and slid it into the oven. While the women turned their attention to preparing for the day, I opened my recipe basket and moved my cookbook aside.

A sealed bottle of water went beneath it.

Then a couple of bananas, two pieces of soft bread, and a clean cloth.

I waited until the woman beside me crossed to the pantry before taking a small paring knife from the worktable. I wrapped the blade in the cloth and tucked it inside my apron.

The knife wouldn’t open metal cuffs.

But it was more than I had yesterday.

When the cake had cooled, I pierced the top and poured the sweet milk mixture over it and the sponge absorbed every drop. One of the women carried it to the refrigerator to chill for dinner.

“It looks beautiful,” Marta said.

“Thank you.”

I smiled brightly enough that she believed me.

Then I untied my apron and folded it over the hidden supplies in my basket.

“I need to get cleaned up.”

The women laughed, and no one questioned me when I carried the basket out of the kitchen.

I’d nearly reached the covered service arcade leading back toward the residential wing when Rafael Duarte stepped from behind one of the stone arches.

“There you are, mi niña.”

“Good morning, Rafael.”

Relief softened his features before worry took its place. “I came to your room earlier…before it was unlocked and found it empty.”

My fingers tightened around the handle.

Only a few people knew the servant passages still existed, and Rafael had helped my mother hide in them from my father.