Respond to the cry of help.

They were exactly who Jen thought they would be: three young women in black and white maid dresses, stockings and patent stiletto shoes. White hairpiece was another element present in each of their attires. Their pretty, made-up faces did portray a grimace of concern, which was why Jen was still in the room.

"Our friend! She needs help, quick!" — one of them cried out. Her emotions seemed genuine. — "Only you can free her!"

"Why me?" — Jen asked, still unsure if she could trust them.

"Well, you're not like us. You're not employed!"

They were not coming closer and did not seem violent, but the unemployed girl wanted to be extra sure.

"Okay. I still don't know what's going on, but I will come with you on one condition: you will swear that you won't trick or **** me into one of these cute dresses. That you won't turn me into one of you. That you won't employ me."

"I swear."

"I swear."

"I fweaw." — one of the maids wore a face mask that did not seem very removable, but Jen considered her vow intelligible enough.

They led Jen through the hangers, then through the door. There was a complicated network of narrower service corridors beyond, but the maid pointed at a particular door.

"She's fun and caring, but she's also a little careless, so she gets into trouble easily." — she was saying, although Jen was mostly thinking of all the possibilities that access to these passages could give her once she was done helping. There was no telling what kind of trouble their friend was in. What in her not being a maid was especially useful for the cause, anyway?