Chapter 1 - THE DIRTY RAG
Claire Bennett had been awake since six, worked a full morning from the dining room, cleaned the kitchen twice, and already moved Madison’s abandoned coffee cups from three different rooms.
At ten-thirty, she found the nineteen-year-old’s wet towel on the hardwood floor.
Again.
“Madison.”
No answer.
Claire picked it up with two fingers.
“Madison!”
The girl appeared in silk pajamas, phone in hand.
“What?”
“Your towel.”
Madison looked at it.
“So?”
“So hang it up.”
She laughed.
“You’re already holding it.”
Claire’s jaw tightened.
For four months, the insults had been small enough for Mark to dismiss.
She’s young.
She’s grieving.
She’ll grow up.
Today Claire was tired of translating disrespect into adolescence.
“I’m not your maid.”
Madison stepped into the kitchen.
“Then stop acting like one.”
Claire stared.
“What did you say?”
Madison grabbed a dirty cleaning rag from beside the sink.
Before Claire understood what she was doing, Madison rushed forward and shoved it against Claire’s mouth.
“Shut up and go wash my clothes!”
Claire stumbled backward in shock.
Mark froze near the breakfast table.
“Madison—”
The girl grabbed a basket and threw it into Claire’s chest.
Underwear.
Shirts.
Socks.
Everything scattered over the floor.
“Now. Wash every single piece by hand.”
Claire ripped the rag from her mouth.
Her eyes burned.
“You just made the biggest mistake of your life.”
Madison pointed at her face.
“You live here because my uncle lets you.”
Mark stepped forward.
“Madison, stop.”
She cut him off.
“This house is going to be mine anyway.”
Claire went completely still.
Madison smiled wider.
“That’s right. This house is—”
Claire moved.
She grabbed a fistful of Madison’s hair.
Madison screamed.
“LET GO!”
Claire dragged her toward the back door.
Mark gasped.
“Claire!”
Outside, Claire forced Madison down beside the old stone wash basin, threw the dirty clothes into her arms, and pointed at the water.
“You wanted laundry done?”
Madison stared up in horror.
“Then wash it yourself. By hand.”
For one second, the yard was silent.
Then Madison’s expression changed.
Not fear.
Calculation.
She reached into her pajama pocket.
May you like
Pulled out her phone.
And Claire saw the camera was already recording.
