The Whitfield mansion was the kind of place people whispered about—grand halls, marble floors, a chandelier in every room. But for Marissa, the new maid, its beauty felt hollow.
She had been working there for just three weeks, but every night she heard it—the faint, muffled cries of a baby somewhere in the east wing.
At first, she thought she was imagining it. Then she asked one of the older maids about it. The woman’s face stiffened.
“Don’t go near that room. Mrs. Evelyn doesn’t like interruptions.”
Marissa’s stomach had turned at the coldness in her voice. She had seen Mrs. Evelyn Whitfield before—a tall, elegant white woman with….Read Full Story Here………………..
