Clara wiped a stray hair from her wet forehead while kneeling on the hard white marble floor.
Her hands were red and sore from hours of scrubbing with cold water and harsh chemicals.
She had been working in the quiet house since the sun came up early that morning.
The white marble stretched across the vast entrance hall of the luxury Dallas home.
Every reflection on the spotless floor reminded Clara of how little she belonged in this house.
Victoria sat on the plush leather sofa only a few feet away with her legs crossed.
She swirled a glass of red wine in her hand while watching Clara work like an overseer.
Victoria: You missed a spot near the bottom stair riser.
Clara: I am sorry, ma'am, I will clean it again right away.
Victoria: Do not use that tone with me when I am giving you simple directions.
Clara squeezed the damp cloth into her bucket with aching fingers.
She had answered an employment ad three weeks ago for a living maid position.
The salary offered in the listing was small, but she desperately needed shelter and work.
She had grown up in foster care after losing her family at a very young age.
She remembered almost nothing about her real parents except a small silver locket she kept hidden.
Victoria: Make sure you finish the entire hallway before my husband returns tonight.
Clara: Yes, Mrs. Vance, I will make sure it is completely clean.
Victoria took another sip of her wine and smiled with cool indifference.
She enjoyed exerting power over the quiet young woman who never spoke back to her.
Clara lowered her face and leaned back over the damp marble tiles to scrub.
Her back burned with fatigue, but she forced herself to keep pushing the cloth.
She knew that losing this job meant living on the city streets with no food.
The house was completely silent except for the harsh sound of her wet rag moving.
A breeze shifted through the large front windows, rattling the heavy velvet drapes nearby.
Clara tried to focus on the task and block out the painful tightness in her muscles.
She kept her eyes fixed on the white floor beneath her knees.
She thought about her childhood and the few sweet memories she still possessed.
She remembered a warm voice calling her name long ago before everything changed.
Victoria: Faster, Clara, I do not have all day to watch you slide around.
Clara: I am moving as fast as my hands can scrub, ma'am.
Victoria: Do not speak back to me or I will deduct your pay for today.
Clara closed her eyes for a brief second to hold back her rising tears.
She nodded her head silently and rubbed the cloth against the stubborn grey stain.
She knew that complaining would only make her situation much worse in this house.
So she worked quietly while the clock on the wall ticked away the long hours.