The little boy took a cautious step forward, his small hand gripping the wooden banister.
Sarah slowly stood up from the floor, setting her damp rag inside the plastic bucket.
She tried to offer him a gentle, reassuring smile so she would not startle him.
Sarah: Hello there, little guy.
The boy did not answer immediately, but his tear-filled eyes stayed fixed on her face.
He possessed a tiny crescent-shaped birthmark right above his left cheekbone.
Sarah felt a sudden surge of heat rush through her entire body.
That birthmark was identical to the one her own family had passed down for generations.
Her hands began to tremble as she reached out toward the air between them.
Leo: Are you the new lady who cleans?
Sarah: Yes, sweetheart, my name is Sarah.
Leo: I dropped my toy behind the sofa, but Mother said not to touch it.
Sarah walked over to the child with soft, measured steps.
She knelt down until she was at eye level with the small boy.
Sarah: I can help you get your toy back if you want.
The boy smiled faintly through his drying tears and nodded his head.
Before Sarah could move, Victoria walked into the hallway with heavy footsteps.
Her sharp heels clacked loudly against the polished floorboards.
Victoria: Leo, why are you out of your playroom?
The little boy instantly flinched and stepped behind Sarah's gray uniform.
Victoria stopped moving and stared at the two of them with deep disgust.
Victoria: Sarah, you are hired to clean, not to socialise with my child.
Sarah: I apologize, ma'am, he was looking for his toy.
Victoria: He has a nanny to care for his needs.
Victoria reached out and pulled Leo by his small arm toward her side.
Leo whimpered slightly, looking back over his shoulder at Sarah as he was led away.
Sarah watched them walk away, her mind racing with a hundred wild thoughts.
She remembered the private adoption file she had hidden in her tiny apartment drawer.
The wealthy couple who adopted her infant had lived right here in this state.
She had spent seven long years wondering where her sweet baby boy had gone.
Could this child truly be the baby she had wept over in that hospital room?
Sarah returned to her bucket, but her mind was completely somewhere else.
She spent the rest of the afternoon dusting the tall bookshelves in the master library.
On top of a dark mahogany desk sat a silver picture frame.
Sarah stepped closer and looked at the birth certificate displayed behind the glass.
The date of birth matched the exact day she had delivered her son.
Her heart pounded wildly inside her chest as tears filled her eyes.
She was standing inside the house of the people who had taken her baby.
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