Monica crossed her arms, pretending to be angry, while the man across from her scratched his head. They looked like a happily married couple.
"Come on now, I'm doing all this for our happy life! How about I buy you that new handbag you've been eyeing?"
Wife?
Son?
What's going on here?
The man, carrying a briefcase, had a neat hairstyle, and his suit was perfectly pressed.
The watch on his wrist was worth several hundred thousand dollars, and his thumb sported a ruby ring that symbolized power.
Everything about him was so different from the father I remembered, who wore the same few yellowed shirts every day.
But he also had a burn scar on the web of his left hand, just like my father's scar, which was caused by the hot water I accidentally spilled on him as a child.
I stood there with my luggage, staring blankly at the scene unfolding in the garden.
My clothes clashed starkly with the mansion's luxurious decor.
Monica walked over, a look of disdain on her face.
"Are you here to apply as a maid?"
"Yes, ma'am," I replied.
The blatant disgust in her eyes made me uncomfortable. Before I could enter, she covered her nose and sprayed me down from head to toe with a disinfectant.