The snow was falling quietly over the city, coating everything in silence and cold. It was one of those evenings where even the wealthy hurried indoors, escaping the bitter wind. But on a forgotten bench in a small park near the financial district, a woman in a navy-blue uniform sat alone, her body leaning lifelessly to one side. She was barely visible under the white frost settling on her apron.
That woman was Grace.
For the past three years, Grace had worked in the home of millionaire Charles Whitaker — a man known more for his bank account than for compassion. His mansion was grand, his routine sharp, and his expectations even sharper. Charles didn’t know much about Grace beyond her punctuality, her quiet steps, and the way she always kept the fireplace crackling before he came down each morning. To him, she was….Read Full Story Here………………………
