Instead, she found Lucille standing frozen in the living room, mop slipping from her hands.
“Ma’am,” Lucille whispered, her voice trembling.
Serena laughed softly. “I know, I should have called first.”
But Lucille did not smile.
They sat. Silence stretched between them until Lucille spoke, tears running freely down her cheeks.
“Mr. Knox brings another woman here whenever you are gone,” Lucille said quietly. “She is here now. She sleeps in your room. She treats this house as hers.”
Serena felt the room tilt. Her ears rang. Her heart protested against reason.
“That is not possible,” she said weakly.
Lucille reached for her hand. “Please, ma’am. If you want the truth, you must see it yourself.”
Serena swallowed hard. “How.”
Lucille hesitated, then spoke with resolve. “Wear my uniform. Pretend to be staff. She does not know you. You will see how she behaves. You will see how he behaves.”
The idea humiliated Serena, but anger burned through her disbelief. She changed into the simple uniform, removing her jewelry, wiping away her makeup. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she barely recognized the woman staring back.
That evening, Kayla returned to the house as she always did, confident and careless, unaware that the ground beneath her certainty had already begun to crack. She dropped her handbag onto the console table and kicked off her shoes, her eyes scanning the room with bored familiarity until they landed briefly on Serena, who stood beside Lucille in the simple uniform.
Kayla barely paused.
“Another maid,” she said with a dismissive laugh, her voice sharp with entitlement. “Perfect. Come here. My legs are killing me and I am not in the mood to wait.”
Serena felt the weight of every word press against her chest, but she lowered herself slowly, forcing her expression into stillness. Her hands trembled slightly as she followed the command, not because of obedience, but because each second confirmed the truth she had feared yet never allowed herself to imagine.
Kayla leaned back comfortably, scrolling through her phone, her cruelty casual and unguarded.
“You know,” she said, smirking, “this house should have been mine a long time ago. That woman is blind. She walks around pretending she has a perfect life while her husband runs straight into my arms the moment she leaves town.”