“Guards. Remove the trash.”
Security dragged Gary out as he screamed and begged. The guests who had laughed at me earlier now stood silent, terrified.
I walked out of the ballroom with Mr. Sterling.
“Madam,” he asked, “would you like to change clothes? There’s an extra gown in the suite.”
I looked at the maid’s uniform I was still wearing.
“No, Arthur,” I smiled. “I want to go home wearing this. To remind myself that no matter what I wear—uniform or gown—my worth is never defined by fabric, but by who I am.”
That night, I lost a husband.
But I reclaimed myself.
And the whole world bowed to the “maid” who wore the crown.
