The glass shattered across the marble.

No one moved.

The maid’s fingers stayed locked around the tiny necklace at her throat.

The man looked at the older woman.

His face had gone cold.

“That necklace belonged to my mother.”

The older woman forced a smile.

“Lots of girls wear cheap little things.”

But her voice shook.

The maid looked between them, confused and frightened.

“My mother gave it to me,” she whispered.

The man’s breath caught.

“Your mother’s name?”

The maid swallowed.

“Clara.”

The older woman stepped forward sharply.

“She’s lying.”

The man stood.

His eyes were wet now, but his voice stayed steady.

“My sister Clara disappeared twenty years ago.”

The maid’s mouth opened, but no words came out.

The second maid on the stairs began crying silently.

The man turned to her.

“What do you know?”

The older woman snapped, “Say nothing.”

But the second maid finally looked up.

“She wasn’t hired,” she whispered. “She was hidden.”

The man looked back at the young maid on the floor.

Tears spilled down her cheeks.

The older woman backed toward the staircase.

The man’s voice broke.

“What is your full name?”

The maid touched the necklace again.

“Clara named me after her brother.”

He stopped breathing.

“My name is Daniel,” she whispered. “Daniela.”