Laura had always believed her writing could change the world. But reality turned out differently, and her boss pushed her to dig up dirt on famous people. Desperate to save her job, she disguised herself as a cleaner to gather compromising details about a millionaire. However, in the process, she uncovered a truth that would change her life forever.
The newsroom hummed with the familiar sounds of keyboards clicking, phones ringing, and occasional bursts of laughter from a distant corner. Laura sat at her desk, papers scattered around her, but her focus was elsewhere. Her thoughts were interrupted when Reggie, the editor-in-chief, emerged from his office. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on her. He looked tired—more tired than usual—and his face carried the weight of disappointment.
“Laura… come to my office for a minute,” he said. His tone was calm but firm. He held the door open, waiting for her to follow. Taking a deep breath, Laura rose from her chair and walked toward Reggie’s office, each step feeling heavier than the last.
“Sit down,” Reggie said, gesturing to the chair across from his desk.
“Reggie, I was just about to tell you about a new article I’m working on,” she began, trying to sound optimistic. “It’s about chemical pollution in a nearby lake—”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about,” Reggie interrupted, sighing as he sank into his chair. He crossed his hands and looked at her directly.
“Laura, pollution in forests, lakes, the extinction of… what are they called again?”
“California condors,” Laura replied tersely.
“Condors, yes,” he nodded. “People don’t care about these things, Laura. They don’t read. And it’s not just my opinion—the data proves it.”
Laura’s brow furrowed. “But people should care, Reggie! It’s not just about nature; it affects our health, our communities—everything!”
Reggie leaned forward, his voice hardening. “It doesn’t bring money. We all need to eat. Salaries need to be paid, and I can’t keep paying someone who isn’t generating revenue.” Reggie softened his tone, removed his glasses, and rubbed his temples.
“I like you, Laura. You’re talented, and you care about your work. That’s why I’m trying to help you.”
“How?”
Reggie slid a photograph across the desk. It showed an elderly man with a stern expression.
“This is Mr. Weiss,” Reggie said. “You know who he is, don’t you?”
“A rich man,” Laura murmured, studying the image.
“The richest man in town,” Reggie corrected her.
“There are rumors he’s spent tens of thousands on private investigators. For years.”
“And?” Laura asked, confused. “It’s his money. Why does that matter?”
“Why would an old man need private investigators?” Reggie leaned back, a sly smile forming. “Lovers, scandals, maybe even crimes. Find anything—and I mean anything—about his spending habits and turn it into a story. This could be the article that saves your career.”
Laura hesitated. “And if I can’t?”
Reggie’s smile vanished. “Then I suggest you start looking for another job.”
The crisp air nipped at Laura’s cheeks as she stood in front of the grand estate, its towering gates and sprawling lawn radiating wealth and history. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and rang the doorbell. The heavy wooden door creaked open slowly, revealing an elderly man. His figure was slightly hunched, his face marked by deep lines of exhaustion. Dark circles framed his eyes, and his unkempt beard looked as though it hadn’t been trimmed in days.
“Good morning, Mr. Weiss,” Laura said with a polite smile, masking her nerves. “My name is Laura. We spoke on the phone about the housekeeping position.”
“Good morning,” Mr. Weiss replied, his voice low and tinged with weariness. “Come in. Forgive the mess; there’s plenty of work to keep you busy.”
Laura stepped inside, her eyes widening as she took in the space. A thick layer of dust coated the once-pristine surfaces, cobwebs adorned the corners, and books and papers were scattered haphazardly throughout the rooms.
“As you can see,” Mr. Weiss continued, “I really need help. Start wherever you like. I’ll be in my study.”
With that, he turned and walked away, closing the study door behind him.
“Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Weiss,” Laura called after him, but he didn’t respond. Through the brief crack before the door closed, Laura glimpsed his desk. It was piled with papers, photographs, and what appeared to be old receipts. Her heart raced—could the secrets be buried there?
Laura spent the next hour cleaning the house, her movements mechanical while her mind raced with plans. Finally, she approached the study door and knocked softly.
“Mr. Weiss, I’m coming in to clean—”
“No!” His voice was surprisingly sharp as the door opened just enough for him to peer out.
“The study doesn’t need cleaning. Thank you for your work today. If you’ve finished the other rooms, you’re free to leave.”
“There are still a few rooms left,” Laura replied, feigning disappointment, but her mind was already racing.
The study was off-limits, and she was more determined than ever to find out why.
Laura crouched near the sofa, her heart pounding. She glanced at the study door, still closed, as her mind rehearsed the plan one more time. It wasn’t elegant, but it might work. Taking a deep breath, she screamed, her voice high-pitched and full of fake terror.
“Ahhh! Mr. Weiss! Help!”
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. Moments later, Mr. Weiss appeared, his face a mask of alarm.
“What happened?” he asked, clutching the doorframe.
“There’s a rat!” Laura shouted, pointing under the sofa with a trembling hand. “It just ran under there! Please, I can’t stand rats—they terrify me!”
“A rat?” Mr. Weiss frowned, his brow furrowing. “That’s impossible.” He grabbed a broom resting against the wall and knelt to peer under the sofa.
“Where? I don’t see anything. Is it gone?” he asked, prodding with the broom handle.
“I… I don’t know!” Laura stammered, backing toward the hallway. “Keep looking. I’ll hide in the kitchen!”
Mr. Weiss grumbled but continued his search, muttering to himself about how unlikely it was.
The moment he was fully distracted, Laura moved quickly. She slipped into his study, closing the door as quietly as possible. The room was dimly lit, illuminated only by a small desk lamp. Papers were scattered across the desk—receipts, handwritten notes, and photographs.
Laura’s journalistic instincts kicked in as she pulled a small camera from her pocket and began taking pictures. Her hands trembled as she worked quickly, her breath shallow. Then she saw it. Among the scattered documents was a detailed sketch of a pendant. She froze, her pulse pounding in her ears.
Reaching for her necklace, she pulled the small pendant out from under her blouse and held it next to the sketch. They were identical.
“Laura.”
The low, heavy voice sent a shiver down her spine. She turned to see Mr. Weiss standing in the doorway, his face shadowed.
“I told you not to come in here,” he said, his voice filled with a mix of anger and pain.
Her hand instinctively grasped the pendant. Mr. Weiss’s eyes widened as he stepped closer, his gaze fixed on the necklace.
“Where did you get that pendant?” he asked, his voice trembling. He reached out, his hand shaking as he touched the necklace.
“Tell me! Where?”
“It belonged to my mother,” Laura replied, pulling back.
“Your mother…” Mr. Weiss whispered, his face pale. “Was her name Dora?”
Laura’s breath caught. “Yes. How do you know that?”
Mr. Weiss’s knees buckled, and he sank to the floor. Tears welled in his eyes as his voice broke.
“Dora… my sweet Dora. She had a daughter…” He looked up at Laura, his expression filled with anguish. “Forgive me. Please, forgive me.”
Laura stumbled back, her hand gripping the desk for support. “You knew my mother?”
“I’m your father,” Mr. Weiss said, his voice hoarse with emotion.
The words hit her like a blow. “You left her!” she cried, tears streaming down her face.
“You abandoned her—and me! She struggled every day because of you!”
“I know,” he said, his voice barely audible.
“I was a coward. I was afraid of responsibility, afraid of being a father. I regretted it every single day. I tried to find her, but she cut all ties. Tell me—where is she now?”
“She’s gone,” Laura spat bitterly.
“She died ten years ago. She got sick, and it’s your fault. She fought so hard to survive, but she was alone because you weren’t there.”
Mr. Weiss crumpled, his body wracked with sobs.
“I never stopped looking. I never stopped loving her. I’m so sorry, Laura. I’m so sorry.”
Laura stared at him, her chest heaving with anger and pain. She shook her head, grabbing her bag.
“I can’t do this,” she said, her voice trembling as she turned and walked out of the room.
The sound of his sobs followed her as she hurried through the grand house and out into the cold night.
Later, Laura sat in the newsroom, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. The photographs lay beside her, the edges slightly curled under the pressure of her hand. On her screen, the half-written article glowed back at her. This story would explode—ruin Mr. Weiss’s name, tarnish his legacy, and save her job.
But as she looked at the photos, her chest tightened. Anger and doubt battled in her mind. Could she really destroy him after everything she had learned? He was no longer just a stranger. He was her father.
Gathering her courage, Laura stood and walked into Reggie’s office. Her breathing felt heavier with each step.
“Reggie, can I come in?”
“Of course,” Reggie said, leaning forward with anticipation. “Please tell me you’ve got something good.”
Laura placed a photograph on his desk. “The article is ready. I can send it now.”
Reggie’s eyes lit up as he examined the photo. “This is perfect, Laura! A millionaire’s dirty secrets—this is going to be huge!”
Laura’s hands trembled. Reggie’s words sounded like nails on a chalkboard.
“No,” she said suddenly, snatching the photo back. Without thinking, she tore it into pieces and let them fall to the floor.
“What are you doing?” Reggie roared, his face turning red.
“I’m not going to ruin his life. If this is what the job requires, I don’t want it,” Laura said firmly.
“You’re fired!” he shouted.
Laura walked out, her head held high. She had lost her job but had found something far more valuable—her integrity.
And for the first time in years, she had a family worth fighting for.