On her first morning, the mansion felt like a tomb. Every step echoed too loudly. As Naomi cleaned near the children’s wing, she heard a soft, broken cry behind a white door painted with gold stars. When she asked if they were okay, a small voice answered, “We want Mommy.” Naomi’s chest tightened. She knelt, speaking gently, and after a moment the door opened. Owen and Lily stood there with tear-stained faces. Their room was filled with expensive toys, yet felt empty. Naomi suggested a game, and when they hesitated, she built a tiny tent from a bedsheet and chairs, calling it a royal castle. For the first time, laughter filled the house.
The moment shattered when Margaret stormed in, her anger slicing through the joy. She shouted that servants were forbidden from the children’s rooms and ordered Naomi to scrub the guest bathroom. Naomi lowered her eyes, promised to return soon, and left the trembling twins behind. Over the following days, Naomi tried to stay invisible, but the twins always found her—slipping her drawings that said, “You are kind.” Those moments became her reason to stay.