Her uniform was clean, but worn out, and her shoes were almost giving way. Still, she walked with purpose. She didn’t want to be late for her cleaning job at Crownville Towers. As she neared the main road, she heard the loud roar of a car engine. Her shiny white SUV was speeding towards her. Before she could step away, the tires hit a deep puddle.
In one awful moment, muddy water splashed all over her. Her face, her clothes, her bag, everything was soaked and dirty. The SUV didn’t stop. Instead, the tinted window rolled down just enough to show a well-dressed woman laughing. Her lipstick was bright red, and she wore huge sunglasses.
“Watch where you stand next time!” she shouted before zooming off. Emma stood there in shock. Her lips trembled, her eyes burned, but she didn’t cry. She just picked up her muddy bag and continued walking. From across the street, a black car sat quietly. Inside was a man named Ethan, a silent observer. He had watched the entire thing happen.
The splash, the laugh, the shame on Emma’s face. Ethan’s eyes narrowed. He knew the rich lady, Vanessa. She was famous for her fashion line and her pride. But what she didn’t know was that today her actions had been witnessed by someone who didn’t believe in letting people suffer silently. He picked up his phone. Find out who that girl is. He said calmly.
I want to know everything. Emma arrived at Crownville Towers looking like a storm had passed over her. Her once clean uniform now had brown stains, her hair stuck to her face, and her shoes squished with every step. As she stepped into the side entrance, her supervisor, Mr. Clark, frowned. Emma, you’re late. And what is this mess? He barked.
She lowered her eyes. I I was splashed by a car. I tried to clean up, but no excuses. He snapped. Get to work. This place needs to be spotless before the guests arrive. Emma nodded and walked toward the cleaning closet. Her co-workers glanced at her. Some shook their heads in pity. But no one spoke. No one helped.
She changed into an old backup uniform, tied her hair up, and got to cleaning like nothing had happened. But inside, Emma was hurting. She thought of her little sister back at home, still sleeping in their one room apartment. She thought of the job she couldn’t afford to lose, so she pushed through.
Meanwhile, Ethan sat in his office, a tall glass building downtown. He wasn’t just any man. He was one of the city’s youngest CEOs, a quiet billionaire who preferred to observe than talk. His assistant brought in the file he requested. Her name is Emma Davis, age 23, works two cleaning jobs, lives in West Pine, takes care of her younger sister.
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