The bright sun shone through the tall glass windows of the luxury Dallas mansion.
Claire knelt on the white polished floor with a soft cloth in her hand.
She wiped the black leather shoe of her wealthy boss with quiet care.
Her hands shook slightly as she pressed the cloth against the dark leather.
Tears welled up in her blue eyes and slipped down her freckled cheeks.
She kept her head down because she did not want to cause any trouble.
Claire: I am sorry, please let me finish cleaning them.
Mrs. Vance sat comfortably in a large velvet armchair near the window.
She swirled a glass of dark red wine in her right hand.
Her sharp eyes looked down at the young girl with deep coldness.
Mrs. Vance: Stop crying this instant, Claire.
Mrs. Vance: You are making an ugly mess on my clean floor.
Claire wiped her face with the back of her gray sleeve quickly.
She had worked at the Vance estate for over six long months.
Every single day brought new tasks and harsh demands from the family.
She needed the weekly paycheck to pay for her mother's high rent.
Her mother was sick and could not work at the local bakery anymore.
Claire: I will polish the leather until it shines like new.
Mrs. Vance: See that you do it without making another sound.
Mrs. Vance took a slow sip from her tall crystal glass.
She did not care about the pain or sadness of her young helper.
To her, the girl was just a hired hand to keep around.
Claire carefully scrubbed the small scuff mark off the side heel.
Her mind raced back to the strange letter she found earlier today.
She had been dusting the dark mahogany desk in the main study upstairs.
A secret drawer had slid open when her elbow hit a small button.
Inside the drawer lay an old yellow envelope with her late father's name.
Her heart had pounded wildly against her ribs when she saw it.
Claire: May I ask a quick question about my father, ma'am?
Mrs. Vance set her wine glass down on the side table hard.
The thin glass made a sharp clicking sound against the smooth stone.
Mrs. Vance: Your father was just an ordinary worker here years ago.
Mrs. Vance: Do not waste my time talking about dead history today.
Claire swallowed the heavy lump that rose quickly in her dry throat.
She knew that answer was not the whole truth about the past.
The letter inside her pocket was signed by the old owner himself.
It mentioned a large trust fund left for a girl named Claire.
She needed to read the full document before anyone noticed it missing.
She finished wiping the second shoe and stood up very slowly.
Her knees ached from kneeling on the hard floor for so long.
Claire: I will go clean the library study now, Mrs. Vance.
Mrs. Vance: Make sure you do not touch my personal paperwork again.
Claire nodded her head politely and backed out of the large room.
She walked down the long hall toward the back service stairs quickly.
Her heart beat fast as she pulled the envelope from her apron.
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