Later that evening, while the other staff whispered in the kitchen, Aisha was quietly polishing the silverware. Maria, the housekeeper, leaned in and muttered, “You’re brave, girl. I’ve seen women twice your size walk out after one of her tantrums. Why are you still here?”
Aisha smiled faintly. “Because I didn’t come here just to clean.”
Maria frowned. “What do you mean?”
Aisha didn’t answer. Instead, she stacked the polished silver neatly and went to prepare the guest rooms. But her mind was elsewhere—on the reason she had accepted this job in the first place, on the truth she had come to uncover.
Upstairs, in the master suite, Olivia was already complaining to Richard about “that new maid.” Richard rubbed his temples, clearly tired of the constant fights.
