But starting tomorrow, I wouldn't need it anymore.
The cleaning chemicals were especially harsh today. My eyes burned red, again and again.
It was nine in the morning by the time I finished scrubbing every restroom in the building, top to bottom.
That was Mary's requirement.
She'd looked at my smooth, unblemished hands that day and smiled. "Pamela Bishop, dear, every restroom in the building needs to be spotless before the staff arrive. You can manage that, can't you?"
I'd gritted my teeth and agreed. Even though those hands had once been made for painting.
Exhausted down to the bone, I curled up in the utility closet behind the last restroom to rest.
BANG BANG BANG—
The pounding on the door nearly stopped my heart.
I opened it. Vivian Lawson stood outside in a crisp designer suit, William's secretary, looking down at me like I was something stuck to her shoe.
"Mrs. Sanchez! So this is where you've been hiding to slack off." Her tone was perfectly polite. Her eyes were not. They slid over my cleaning uniform like a blade. "The second stall in the women's room is clogged. Would you mind taking care of it?"