The sound of the slap echoed through the grand ballroom like a gunshot.
Victoria: How dare you touch my things, you miserable girl!
Elena stumbled backward, clutching her burning left cheek. She wore a faded grey and white maid uniform, her dark hair pulled back in a neat bun. Tears welled up in her eyes immediately, spilling over her pale cheeks as dozens of wealthy guests turned to look.
Elena: I didn't touch anything, Mrs. Sterling! I swear!
Victoria: Don't you lie to me! Let's see what you stole!
Victoria stepped forward in her lavish burgundy dress, her diamond rings catching the light of the massive chandeliers. She snatched the small silver clutch purse right out of Elena's trembling hands.
Elena: Please! That's my personal bag! Give it back!
Victoria: Personal bag? On a maid's salary? Let's take a look!
Victoria unzipped the clutch with a sharp pull and tipped it upside down. A shower of loose coins, a worn lipstick, a bus pass, and a folded piece of paper clattered onto the black-and-white checkered marble floor.
Victoria: Look at this cheap trash! Trying to hide her little thief stash!
Elena: There is nothing stolen in there! Please, just let me pick up my things!
Elena dropped to her knees, her hands shaking as she scrambled across the cold marble floor to gather her scattered coins.
The wealthy guests whispered among themselves, sipping champagne while pointing at the weeping maid. But at the edge of the crowd, an elderly man in a sharp black tuxedo froze.
Arthur Sterling, the patriarch of the Sterling estate, slowly walked toward the middle of the room. His eyes were fixed on the folded paper resting on the checkered tile.
He bent down, his aged hands trembling as he picked up the torn, vintage black-and-white portrait.
Arthur: My God...
Arthur stared at the tiny image in total shock, his mouth slightly open, his breath catching in his throat.
Victoria: Father? What is it? Did she steal something of yours?
Arthur ignored his daughter-in-law completely. He dropped to his knees right beside the crying maid, holding the worn, yellowed photograph right next to Elena's face.
Arthur: Is it you in this photograph?
Elena stopped crying for a second, looking up into the old man's pale blue eyes.
Elena: No, sir... that's my mother.
Arthur's hands shook so violently the photo almost slipped from his fingers, revealing a secret that would shake the entire estate to its core.