Emily pulled her blue sedan into the long gravel driveway of her childhood home.
The afternoon sun reflected brightly off the high glass windows of the grand estate.
She had spent the last five years working overseas as a finance manager in London.
Every single month, she had transferred her entire paycheck back home to pay off the mortgage.
Her goal was simple: to ensure her elderly mother, Eleanor, lived in total comfort.
She stepped out of her car and took a deep breath of the fresh mountain air.
The double mahogany front doors were unlocked, which felt slightly unusual to her.
She pushed the heavy door open and walked into the grand marble entryway.
The air inside smelled strongly of bleach and chemical floor cleaners.
Emily dropped her brown leather shoulder bag onto the nearest wooden bench.
She looked across the expansive floor and saw an elderly woman kneeling on a small cushion.
The woman wore a faded gray maid uniform with a plain white apron tied behind her back.
She was scrubbing a dark red juice stain from the polished white marble tiles.
Emily froze near the threshold as her eyes adjusted to the indoor light.
The woman turned her head slowly, wiping sweat from her wrinkled forehead.
Emily recognized the soft brown eyes immediately, despite the dark circles beneath them.
It was her mother, Eleanor, holding a damp rag with trembling hands.
"Mom?" Emily called out, her voice cracking in pure confusion.
Eleanor gasped softly and dropped the wet sponge into her plastic bucket.
"Emily..." Eleanor whispered, her voice filled with deep sorrow.
Emily rushed across the hallway and dropped to her knees right beside her mother.
She grabbed Eleanor's thin shoulders and looked closely into her tired face.
"Why are you dressed like this?" Emily demanded, looking at the uniform.
"Why are you scrubbing floors in your own house?" she asked.
Before Eleanor could answer, a loud laugh echoed from the second-floor balcony.
Emily snapped her head up toward the grand curved staircase.
A man in a navy silk bathrobe stood leaning against the top railing.
Beside him stood a young woman in an expensive silk gown holding a champagne glass.
It was Derek, Emily's older stepbrother, wearing a broad smirk on his face.
"Because this is my house now, little sister," Derek said down to her.
Emily felt her stomach drop as she stared up at her smug stepbrother.