Chapter 1: The Uniform
The day I came home early from my business trip, I found my three-year-old daughter Sofia on her knees in the foyer, scrubbing my shoes with her bare hands while Veronica stood over her and watched.
Sofia's uniform was the one I recognized instantly.
White apron.
Gray dress.
The kind my housekeeper wore.
My daughter was wearing it.
I had married Veronica fourteen months ago because she was composed, elegant, and told me she loved children.
What I didn't know was that the moment my back was turned, she had been teaching Sofia that the only women worth anything in this house were the ones who served.
"She needed discipline," Veronica said when I asked.
Sofia looked up at me with wet eyes and said the thing that stopped my heart.
"Daddy, Veronica said mommy was a servant."
I didn't respond to Veronica.
I walked to the shoe cabinet, crouched down, and opened the compartment at the bottom that I had never thought to check.
There was a box inside.
Inside the box were letters.
Every envelope was sealed.
Every one of them was addressed to Sofia in handwriting I recognized immediately because I had spent four years watching Alina write in exactly that way.
Alina had been gone for two years.
May you like
I had told Sofia her mother stopped writing.
I was wrong.
