That’s how my new life began.
I woke up early to iron clothes for everyone, hurried to classes, then came back to clean until late at night.
I hadn’t met Margaret’s son yet.
Linda told me he was away on business.
His wife, Elaine, and their teenage son treated me politely, though it felt more like tolerance than kindness.
They carried themselves like people who didn’t see those beneath them.
One morning, after ironing, I was filling my water bottle in the kitchen when I heard a man’s voice behind me.
“Kate?”
I turned and saw a man in his forties staring at me.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly.
“Clara. Right.
You just reminded me of someone.”
“My mom’s name was Kate,” I said before I could stop myself. “Did you know her?”
“No. I don’t think so.” Then he walked away.
That was the first time I saw Thomas.
There was something cold about him, something distant.
As I watched him leave, I told myself I’d been right all along; some people were better admired from afar.
