Chapter 6: The New Order

At that moment, Peach’s soft voice came from outside.

She tapped gently on the door, carrying a tray of tea. "Ma’am, Emily has recovered from her cold and wishes to pay her respects."

The door opened, and Rachel walked in with light steps.

Even in her plain uniform, she couldn’t shake her old arrogance. Though dressed as a staffer, she still carried herself with an air of entitlement.

I knew Rachel was waiting for me to speak.

So I deliberately looked at her timidly, my eyes brimming with just the right amount of fear and confusion.

"Ma’am?"

I let my voice tremble, hands twisted in my lap. "Good Emily, come here. The staff’s beds are cold and hard—so uncomfortable. Arrange another place for me today, or you can sleep with me."

She acted as if no one else was present, opening the hand cream on the vanity, still complaining.

She sniffed at the floral scent. "What’s wrong with your knees? They’re thick and swollen, always aching."

That was when you first entered the White House and offended Deborah. I knelt for you all day and got this illness.

She clucked her tongue. "Heavens, and your hands are so rough, always itchy at night…"

After a while, perhaps noticing my silence, she finally stopped and looked back at me.

She saw me kneeling on the floor, tears streaming down my face.

Her eyes widened with genuine surprise. "Ma’am, how can you really be a maid? Please have the spirit switch us back."

I wanted to test what kind of strange being this "Tommy" she mentioned was.

Rachel waved her hand dismissively.

She clicked her tongue, dismissive. "It’s nothing. Others love wealth and status, but I don’t. I love freedom more."

She turned to the window, her profile tense. "I’ve given you all the riches and glory. Will you do something for me?"

I pretended to be confused and looked up.

"This staffer—what could I do for you? Can’t the spirit help you? Please switch us back."

Rachel’s eyes flashed with impatience.

She snapped, irritation coloring her voice. "Why call yourself lowly? When you were Emily, I never treated you as a servant. Now you’re Rachel, daughter of a decorated general, the future First Lady—who would dare call you lowly?"

She bit her lip. "If I hadn’t failed the mission and run out of points, why would I have to choose you and depend on you…"

She grabbed my shoulders hard.

Her nails dug into my skin. "In short, just do as I say. Rise quickly to First Lady and get me out of the White House, or you’ll find yourself cursed for good—trust me, you don’t want to see what that looks like."

Seeing me timidly agree, she lifted her chin proudly and tried to reassure me.

Her bravado sounded forced. "Don’t be scared. As long as you listen, you’ll live a life you never dreamed of. Emily, never tell anyone about our switch, unless you want to be burned as a witch. I have the spirit’s protection, but I’m just worried about you, silly girl."

She eyed my jewelry, greedy. "Later, have the President make me a senator’s daughter and reward me with gold and jewels. When I leave the White House, you’ll be the only First Lady of the East Wing."

Having served her all my life, I know Rachel too well.

Just from her words, I could tell her magic had gone wrong.

If she wants anything else, she can only achieve it through me.

She could only switch with me,

She couldn’t switch back.

After she left, I sneered, arranged a side room for Rachel, and found a mute butler named Ron from the old staff quarters.

Ron was tall, with a gentle, watchful presence. I gave him one task: late at night, hide in the side room’s closet and record every word Rachel muttered to herself.

He nodded once, silent as a shadow, and melted into the dim hallway. I felt a strange, quiet triumph.