The bright sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the grand Dallas mansion.
The white marble floor stretched across the massive foyer like a sheet of ice.
Clara knelt on the cold stone, holding a worn wooden bucket and a damp rag.
Her hands were red and raw from scrubbing the same spot for over an hour.
Every slight movement made her tired muscles ache under her simple cotton dress.
A few feet away sat Victoria, sipping cold white wine from a crystal glass.
Victoria watched Clara with a sharp gaze that made the room feel ice cold.
She adjusted her expensive diamond watch and tapped her foot on the rug.
Victoria: You missed a spot near the bottom step, girl.
Clara kept her head down and dipped her rag back into the soapy water.
She did not want to cause any trouble in this gigantic, quiet house.
She had only taken this cleaning job three days ago out of sheer desperation.
Her rent was due, and her mother had recently passed away after a long illness.
Clara needed every single dollar just to keep a simple roof over her head.
Clara: I am fixing it right now, ma'am.
Victoria: See that you do it right this time.
Victoria took another slow sip of wine and leaned back on the cream couch.
She enjoyed having complete control over every person who worked in the estate.
She had hired Clara off a local job board without asking for any references.
The girl looked quiet, vulnerable, and completely alone in the world.
That made Clara the perfect person to handle the hardest house chores.
Clara squeezed the water from her rag and leaned down to scrub the marble.
She wiped away a stray tear that tried to roll down her dusty cheek.
She remembered her mother telling her to always stay strong no matter what happened.
Suddenly, the heavy front double doors unlocked with a loud, metallic click.
The sound echoed off the high ceiling of the empty, quiet entry hall.
Victoria straightened up immediately, setting her wine glass down on the side table.
Her relaxed expression quickly shifted into a smooth, fake welcoming smile.
A tall man in a dark tailored suit stepped into the sunny foyer.
Arthur had just returned from a long business trip across the country.
He carried a heavy leather briefcase and looked tired from his long flight.
He stopped near the doorway to take off his coat in the entry hall.
Clara paused her work and looked up from the cold floor near the stairs.
Her breath caught completely in her throat as she saw his familiar face.
The sunlight lit up his grey hair and the kind eyes she remembered vividly.
She had not seen this man since she was a very young child.
Clara: Papa?
The soft word echoed softly off the hard white marble walls around them.
Arthur froze instantly, dropping his briefcase straight onto the pristine floor.