Her name was Lily. Three years old. Curly brown hair. Wide dark eyes that seemed to notice everything. Lily lived with Rosa at the estate, in the small room near the back of the house that Rosa had made as warm as possible with a second-hand quilt and a string of little paper stars she had cut out herself.
Lily was not allowed in the main areas of the house. Vivian had made that rule very clear.
“I don’t want a child running around breaking things,” Vivian had told Ethan.
And Ethan, who trusted Vivian’s management of the household, had agreed.
So Lily spent her days in that back room or in the small patch of garden near the staff entrance. Playing quietly with a few toys Rosa had brought from their old apartment. A stuffed elephant. A set of plastic stacking rings. A little picture book with animals in it that Lily had memorized so well she could recite the words herself.
Every morning, Rosa kissed Lily’s forehead before the household woke up and whispered, “Mama’s right here. I’m always right here.”
Every evening after her work was done, she would sit on the floor of their little room and hold Lily close and read the animal book one more time. Even when her feet ached. Even when her hands were raw. Even when the day had been hard and Vivian’s voice still rang in her ears. She held on because Lily was her whole world.
Two months before the story changed forever, Ethan’s assistant came to Rosa and told her something that made her nervous immediately.
“The estate will be hosting a large outdoor garden party for Mr. Hargrove’s thirty-third birthday,” the assistant said. “Around eighty guests. Business partners, investors, old college friends, family members. Catering will be brought in, but you’ll be expected to manage the household staff and assist throughout the evening.”
Rosa nodded. She would manage. She always managed. But something inside her felt uneasy.
Maybe it was the way Vivian had been lately. More irritable. More demanding. More sharp-edged than usual. Ethan had been traveling for three weeks straight and would only return the evening of the party. Vivian was stressed about the planning, about appearances, about everything being perfect.
Stressed people with power and no empathy. That combination worried Rosa deeply.
She tucked Lily in that night and whispered an extra prayer. She didn’t know yet how much she would need it.
