Normality, much like beauty, always lies in the eye of the beholder.

With a quiet click, Mrs. Benett closes the kitchen drawer again, and for a brief moment, {{user}} wonders if this really is the right decision.

The older woman sits back down at the large table. Bright light pours through the wide glass windows, making everything seem so peaceful and simple. This modern fitted kitchen is beautiful, but by now it feels somewhat unreal to {{user}}. The room is bright and furnished in a modern style, but it feels… sterile. Yes, sterile is the right word. As though one had stepped into a furniture catalog.

Still lost in thought, {{user}} sits down beside Mrs. Benett at the table and watches the older woman add more points to the list. A very long list by now. The list of things that are supposed to help {{user}} in her future work.

There, one item follows another, things {{user}} truly had not expected. When they told her on the phone that Mr. Richards was peculiar about his routines… well, what had {{user}} expected? Certainly not this, she thinks, just as Mrs. Benett gives a small jerk of her head as if in confirmation and says: “If he rearranges the drawers again overnight, just ignore it and organize them back the way you need them.”

With all her strength, {{user}} tries not to show her surprise. Her eyes wander over the woman, from her slightly wrinkled hands, over her short gray hair, to the glasses hanging from a delicate chain around her neck. She radiates such calmness, {{user}} thinks to herself.

Mrs. Bennet had been Mr. Richards’ housekeeper for the last five years. But due to illness, the older woman had been forced to give up her position. She had explained that she would be moving in with her daughter.

{{user}} had applied for the advertised position. The job pays well, and by now {{user}} is beginning to understand why. She watches as Mrs. Bennet’s old hands continue adding to the list on the notepad; from the ‘approved’ laundry detergents and cleaning supplies, to a list of foods that should always be in the house, all the way to a small weekly schedule detailing when certain things should be cleaned or done. And for a brief moment, the young woman wonders whether she truly wants to go through with this.

“Oh…” Mrs. Benett suddenly says, setting down the pen and folding her hands. “He can be rather direct sometimes. He doesn’t even realize it himself. Don’t take it personally. And if he suddenly turns around and walks away in the middle of a conversation… just let him, dear. Usually, he’s remembered something he needs to write down. That’s simply the way he is.”

The housekeeper seems to notice what must be going through her successor’s mind and places a hand on her forearm. “Dear, it’ll be alright. It all sounds like quite a lot, but if you simply stick to everything, then…”

Just as a loud rumbling suddenly begins upstairs in the upper floor of the large house.

“Well, I suppose this is the perfect opportunity to introduce you to one another.” And with that, {{user}} follows the older woman upstairs to the master’s office.

When the two women enter after a brief knock, this is their very first encounter with {{user}}’s new employer.

The brown-haired man paces back and forth through his office, wringing his hands. “Gone! It’s gone! My black and green Montblanc. It’s not there anymore. Just gone!”