HIS DARK SECRET

Chapter2

Clara's POV

My mother was hunched over the small wooden table, pressing a damp cloth to her cheek.

When she looked up, the light caught the dark, blooming purple of a fresh bruise.

"Did mrs. victoria hit you again?" “i asked” The words came out as a choked whisper.

"Clara, it’s nothing," she lied immediately, her voice trembling.

"I was just clumsy. I tripped in the garden."

I didn't believe her. I turned to Maya my little sister, who was sitting on the edge of her cot, her eyes red and puffy.

"Maya, tell me what happened."

"It was my fault," Maya sobbed, her shoulders shaking.

"I was trying to help trim the roses, and I... I accidentally cut one of Mrs. Victoria’s prize lilies. She was so angry. Mom tried to step in, and..."

Anger, hot and useless, surged through me. I wanted to run upstairs and demand justice.

But as I looked at the medicine bottles lined up on the shelf—the expensive pills that kept my mother’s heart beating—the fire died into ash.

"I’m tried of staying here, Clara," Maya cried, clutching my hand.

"Please, can’t we just leave?"

"And go where, Maya?" I pulled her into a hug, feeling her tears soak my shirt.

"Without this house, Mom has no medicine. You have no school.

I’ll work harder, I promise. I’ll get us out of here. Just... just hold on a little longer."

That night, I lay awake on my thin mattress, staring at the cracks in the ceiling.

My mind was a battlefield.

I kept seeing the man from the club—the way he looked when he was high, the way his hand felt like a shackle on my arm.

I knew I couldn't go back to the club. If he saw me again, he wouldn't let me go.

But if I quit, it’s won’t be easy for me to find another job.

I fell into a restless sleep.

The Next Morning

The sun hadn't even fully risen when a sharp knock echoed on our door.

It was the sound of a summons.

I found Mrs.Victoria in the main foyer, looking as if she hadn't a care in the world, sipping tea while my mother polished the silver nearby with a bruised face.

"Clara," she said, her voice like silk over a blade. "I have a job for you.

“My father is looking for a personal maid at his estate. You're going there today."

My heart sank.

"A maid job? i muttered nervously. i hated it.

"You misunderstand, Clara," she replied,

"You aren't going there to just clean. You are going there to be my eyes. You will spy on the boy living with my father and report every move, every visitor, and secret back to me."

"I... I can't do that," I whispered, my courage failing me.

Mrs.Victoria’s expression shifted instantly.

The mask of a lady fell away, replaced by a predator.

"Ungrateful child," she hissed.

"I brought you, your mother, and your little sister into this house.

I pay for your mother’s heart medication. I pay for Maya’s schooling. But you still have the guts to refuse what i asked you to do?"

she hissed again, her voice rising with a dangerous edge.

"You think you’re too good to do what I tell you?"

Before I could even find my voice to defend myself, a sudden movement beside me made my heart drop.

My mother she went straight to her knees on the hard marble floor.

She didn't even look at the bruise on her face as she reached out, her hands trembling as she grabbed the hem of Mrs.Victoria’s expensive silk skirt.

"Please, Ma'am! Please, don't mind her!" my mother sobbed, her voice breaking.

"She’s young, she doesn’t know what she’s saying. She’ll do it! I promise. Just... please don't be angry with her."

A wave of hot, suffocating anger surged through my chest.

I wanted to pull my mother up and tell her to stop humiliating herself for this woman.

But as I realized the terrifying truth: “if have been swallowing my pride and decides not to swallow it now what difference would it make”.

"I... I'm sorry," I muttered,

the words feeling like shards of glass in my throat.

I lowered my head, staring at my mother’s hands on the floor.

"I didn't mean it that way, Ma'am. I was just... surprised."

Mrs.Victoria looked down at us like we were dirt on her shoes.

She let out a small, satisfied hum and pulled her skirt out of my mother’s reach, as if she were afraid my mother’s touch would stain the expensive fabric she wear.

"That’s better," she said, her voice dropping back into that silk-over-steel tone.

She turned her gaze back to me, her eyes tracking the anger I was trying so hard to hide.