The heavy iron gates opened slowly under the bright morning sun.
Mark adjusted his black coat as he pulled his luggage up the long stone driveway.
He had spent six long months overseas working to secure his family business.
Every single day away from home had felt like an eternity to him.
He looked up at the huge white mansion sitting on the crest of the hill.
The pristine marble pillars shone under the clear blue American sky.
A large American flag hung gracefully from the upper balcony rail.
Mark took a deep breath of the cool air and smiled to himself.
He was finally home to see his beloved wife, Clara.
They had married quietly just a few weeks before his long deployment started.
His wealthy mother, Victoria, had promised to care for Clara while he was away.
Clara came from a humble working-class family in a small rural town.
Victoria had initially disapproved of the marriage due to their different social statuses.
However, she had assured Mark that she would welcome Clara with open arms.
Mark pulled out his keys as he reached the grand front entryway.
The quiet air felt almost too calm around the massive estate.
He expected to hear music playing or to see Clara waiting near the door.
Instead, the huge double doors swung open to reveal total silence inside.
Mark dragged his rolling suitcase across the polished threshold into the main foyer.
The echo of his leather boots filled the massive open room.
He placed his heavy travel bags on the floor near the entrance coat rack.
Mark: Clara? Mom? Is anyone home?
No one answered his call from the upper floors of the house.
He noticed a faint sound coming from the middle of the foyer floor.
It sounded like a harsh sponge rubbing repeatedly against hard wet stone.
Mark walked around the tall marble statue in the center of the hall.
His heart stopped the moment his eyes fell upon the floor near the stairs.
A young woman was down on her hands and knees scrubbing the marble.
She wore a simple dark apron and held a worn plastic sponge.
Her hair was tied back hastily, and her shoulders trembled with deep exhaustion.
Beside her stood a harsh spray bottle filled with strong chemical cleaner.
Mark lowered his head to look closer at the kneeling woman.
The woman turned her head slightly as the shadows shifted above her.
Tears rolled down her pale cheek, catching the bright daylight from above.
Mark gasped aloud as he recognized the gentle face looking up at him.
Mark: Clara? What are you doing down there?