The next morning, Ethan summoned Mrs. Rowe, the head housekeeper.
“Who was that?” Ethan demanded, though his tone was less harsh than he intended. “Why was the cleaning lady with my sons?”
Mrs. Rowe hesitated. “Her name is Maria, sir. She’s only been here a few months. A good worker. Last night, the nurse had a fever and left early. Maria must have heard the babies crying. She stayed with them until they slept.”
Ethan frowned. “But why fall asleep on the floor?”
“Because, sir,” Mrs. Rowe’s eyes softened, “she has a daughter of her own. She works double shifts every day to pay for the girl’s school. I imagine she was simply… exhausted.”
Ethan felt something shift inside him. He had thought of Maria as just another uniform, a name on a payroll. But suddenly she was more—a mother, struggling in silence, yet still giving comfort to children who weren’t even her own.
