Page 2 of The Maid's Secret

“It’s time,” she said again and again.

And just like that, she was gone. By gone I do not mean asleep or on holiday or traipsing to the corner store to fetch a jug of milk. What I mean is: she was dead. Yes, dead. There really is no point sugarcoating these things. It was not easy or simple. She died.

My gran taught me to be direct. She also taught me everything else of substance I’ve learned in this life. For that, and for her, I remain forever grateful.

Today, I can’t stop thinking about her. In a cavernous chamber in my mind, her voice echoes, her refrains repeating in a Möbius loop. Perhaps I’m daft, with a mind as soft as unripened cheese, but there are times when I feel her lingering close. It’s as if she’s trying to tell me something—to warn me of some calamity or unseen danger ahead.I’m used to this, of course—to being the last to know, to understanding too late. What I’mnotused to are warnings delivered from beyond the grave by someone who is most certainlyverydead.

—

“Molly, are you okay? Molly, look at me. Wake up.”

I’m staring into bright lights. Where am I? People crowd around me, shouting and calling my name. Is this an operating room? No, that’s not it. The place is familiar, but everything is blurred.

“Molly, listen to me!”

“Open your eyes!”

I know one thing only: something is terribly wrong. Was I in an accident? Am I dying, my soul rising to meet its maker?

Then I hear it, loud and clear—Gran’s voice.

All that glitters isn’t gold.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Yes. I remember. I know where I am. I’m in the well-appointed tearoom of the Regency Grand, the five-star hotel where I work as a maid. My beloved fiancé, Juan Manuel, and I arrived early this morning to set up for the day’s big occasion—a fine arts and collectibles event with Brown and Beagle, celebrity appraisers and costars of the hit TV showHidden Treasures.I’m not dying, thank goodness, but I’m also not all right. I’m lying on the floor, and all around me are microphones and iPhones and TV cameras and jostling humanity.

This was not supposed to happen. These cameras were never supposed to be focused on me. But moments ago, a revelation was made that was so astonishing, so absurd it feels like a dream. To my utter horror, I’m no longer the invisible maid toiling in the background but the epicenter of attention. An entire room of lookie-loos surrounds me, and they’re shouting at me in a desperate frenzy.

“Molly, you’re a maid, right? At this hotel?”

“Molly, how does it feel to go from rags to riches in an instant?”

“Molly, can you get up off the floor? You’re rich!”

“Molly,mi amor? Are you okay?”

The last voice cuts through, bringing me back to myself—Juan Manuel, my love, my life.

Lights and cameras push closer, and I lose sight of him. I try to lift myself, but I lack strength. Stars twinkle in my periphery—all that glitters isn’t gold.Two men’s faces—I know them; I’ve seen them before, many times—the stars of a popular show.

“Tell our viewers how it feels, Molly. What’s it like to be an instant multimillionaire?”

The world tilts sideways and suddenly fades to black.

And then I remember everything: But how? How did it come to this?

—

“Rise and shine,mi amor!” These were the first words I heard as I woke this morning. Through sleepy eyes, I watched as Juan, still in his pajamas, popped out of our bed and pulled the curtains back to let the soft morning light into our room.

I’m not a morning person, but Juan Manuel, just like my gran before him, delights at the dawn of each new day, invigorated with a zest for life, whereas I wrestle my way out from under cobwebs of exhaustion, begging for a few more minutes of slumber. And so it was this morning as it is on most mornings.

“I beg you, press snooze! Please!” I nestled deeper under the covers.

My beloved shuffled into his slippers and like a contented sparrow sang a happy tune as he flitted about our bedroom. A moment later, the mattress shifted as he perched on the edge. I felt his warm hand cajole me from my blanket nest.

“Early to bed, early to rise, makes Molly healthy, wealthy, and wise,” he chimed in his singsong voice.

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