The grand foyer of the sprawling estate was filled with bright white light.
Soft music echoed off the polished marble floors as guests moved between rooms.
Richard adjusted his dark suit jacket while watching the crowd with tired eyes.
He had lived in this house for his entire adult life.
Yet something about the high ceilings always made him feel completely alone.
His fiancée Victoria stood near the grand staircase in a glittering dark gown.
She was speaking sharply to one of the younger house staff members.
The young maid wore a clean black uniform with a white cloth apron.
Her head was bowed low as she held a tray of sparkling drinks.
Richard noticed the maid's hands were shaking as Victoria pointed a finger.
Victoria: You spilled a drop on my dress!
Clara: I am so sorry, ma'am, I slipped on the tile.
Victoria: You are completely clumsy and useless!
Victoria grabbed a folded leather strap from a side table in anger.
She raised her hand high into the air with a cruel look.
The maid stepped back toward the staircase wall in total fear.
Richard saw the movement from across the wide white hall.
He walked across the room in long, fast strides before anyone reacted.
His hand shot out and caught Victoria's wrist mid-air with deep authority.
Richard: Put it down!
Victoria gasped loudly as her arm was held firmly in place.
Victoria: Richard, let go of me right now!
Richard: You will not raise your hand to anyone in my house.
Victoria: You're defending her?
Victoria: She just ruined my favorite custom gown!
Richard: That does not give you the right to act like this.
Richard forced her arm down gently but firmly until she dropped the strap.
The guests around the foyer grew quiet as they turned to watch.
Victoria pulled her arm back and smoothed her dark gown with fake pride.
She glared at the young maid who was weeping against the wall.
Richard: Did she threaten you, Clara?
Clara: I... I was just trying to clean the stain, sir.
Clara: I never meant to cause any trouble tonight.
Richard looked down at Clara's trembling hands near her collarbone.
She was clutching a tiny piece of silver hanging from a thin chain.
The bright light caught the worn metallic surface of an oval pendant.
Richard stepped closer as a strange feeling took over his mind.
The oval locket had a distinct pattern of small carved roses along the rim.
It was a pattern he had not seen in over twenty years.
His breath caught in his chest as he stared at the small silver piece.
Richard: Where did you get that?
Clara: My necklace, sir?
Richard: Yes, that silver locket right there.
Clara: It belonged to my mother... Isabella.