Ethan stepped forward, but before he could speak, Madison’s voice rang out from the living room: “Emily! Hurry up and finish, and bring us more ice—we’re thirsty!”
Ethan felt something snap inside him.
Emily quickly wiped her tears and forced a weak smile. “You’re home… just a few minutes, I’ll finish and heat your dinner…”
He didn’t answer. He walked over, took the sponge from her hands, and turned off the water. Her hands were rough, damaged.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked quietly. “It’s late. You’re eight months pregnant. The doctor said you needed rest. Where’s the housekeeper? I give my mom money for that.”
Emily looked down, crying again. “She doesn’t work here anymore… your mom let her go two months ago.”
Ethan’s mind reeled. “And the money?”
Emily covered her face. “They used it… trips, clothes… They told me it was my duty to clean since I don’t work outside… They said if I told you, they’d turn you against me…”
Silence filled the room, heavy with anger.
Ethan gently held her. “Go upstairs. Rest. You’re not doing anything else tonight.”
After making sure she was safe, he walked back to the living room.
The laughter continued.