Arthur stood completely still in the middle of the grand foyer, his tuxedo jacket slipping from his hand and hitting the floor unheeded. The powerful CEO, who usually ran multi-million dollar boardrooms with absolute calm, looked like he had just seen a ghost. His eyes darted from the vintage black-and-white portrait in his hand to the young woman crying on the floor.
Victoria: Arthur? What is wrong with you? It is just a thief. She was stealing from us.
Arthur didn't even look at his wife. He slowly walked over to Elena, his expensive leather shoes clicking softly against the marble. He knelt down on the hard floor, ignoring the scattered coins and the dirt. He held the small photo up right next to Elena's face, his hand shaking violently.
Arthur: Is it you in this photo?
Elena: No... sir... that is my mother.
Arthur let out a ragged breath, his chest heaving as if he had just run a marathon. He looked closely at the photograph, then at Elena's large, tear-filled eyes, her high cheekbones, and the distinctive shape of her jaw. It was a perfect match. The woman in the photo was younger, dressed in vintage clothing from thirty years ago, but the resemblance was undeniable. It was like looking at a twin.
Victoria: Arthur, stand up this instant! Why are you kneeling before the maid? She belongs in a jail cell, not in our family records!
Arthur: Victoria, look at her face. Look at this photo.
Victoria: I don't care about a piece of garbage trash! She took my silver clutch!
Elena: I didn't take it, sir! I found it under the sofa while cleaning. I was bringing it to the kitchen to show the butler. I swear on my life!
Arthur: Where did you get this photograph, Elena? Tell me the truth.
Elena wiped her nose with the back of her hand, her maid uniform stained with dust from the floor. She looked at Arthur, sensing the strange, desperate intensity in his voice.
Elena: My mother gave it to me before she passed away last year. She said it was the only thing she had left from her youth. She told me if I ever got desperate, if I ever needed help, I should come to this city.
Arthur: What was your mother's name?
Elena: Clara. Clara Davis.
Arthur dropped the photo. He covered his mouth with both hands, a low groan escaping his throat. Victoria looked between them, her anger turning into sudden panic. She had never seen her husband look this broken, not even during the hardest legal drama or lawsuit their company had faced.
Victoria: Arthur, you are making a scene. Who is Clara? Why do you care about some dead woman from a maid's past?
Arthur slowly stood up, his face grim. He looked at his wife, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and deep, hidden guilt.
Arthur: Clara was the love of my life before I met you, Victoria. She was the woman who disappeared right before my father forced me into our marriage alliance.
Victoria's jaw dropped. She stepped back, her hand flying to her diamond necklace. The mansion grew completely silent, save for the ticking of the clock.
Victoria: You... you are lying. You told me you never loved anyone before me!
Arthur: My father threatened to cut off my trust fund and my entire inheritance if I stayed with her. He told me she ran away with money he gave her. But she didn't run away because of money, did she?
Arthur turned back to Elena, his voice barely a whisper.
Arthur: Elena, how old are you?
Elena: I just turned twenty-four, sir.
Arthur closed his eyes as a single tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. He looked at the girl who had been scrubbing his floors for the past three months, the girl his wife had just brutally slapped across the face.
Arthur: Twenty-four years. Oh, dear God. Elena... you are my daughter.