Lucille hesitated, then spoke with resolve. “Wear my uniform. Pretend to be staff. She does not know you. You will see how she behaves. You will see how he behaves.”
The idea humiliated Serena, but anger burned through her disbelief. She changed into the simple uniform, removing her jewelry, wiping away her makeup. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she barely recognized the woman staring back.
That evening, Kayla returned to the house as she always did, confident and careless, unaware that the ground beneath her certainty had already begun to crack. She dropped her handbag onto the console table and kicked off her shoes, her eyes scanning the room with bored familiarity until they landed briefly on Serena, who stood beside Lucille in the simple uniform.
Kayla barely paused.
“Another maid,” she said with a dismissive laugh, her voice sharp with entitlement. “Perfect. Come here. My legs are killing me and I am not in the mood to wait.”