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Chapter one
Aura
I’m sitting in the back of a black Rolls-Royce as the driver pulls through a gate that leads to a sprawling Manson. My jaw almost hits the floor. I have never seen a house up close so big before. The lawns are manicured and have hedges made into figures. Who does that? I guess rich people do. These people are insanely rich. I mean, the house looks like a celebrity mansion with acres of secluded real estate.
My parents raised me on the other side of town, where the working-class live in Spencer, Pennsylvania. My mother was a loan officer, and my father worked as an assistant manager at a lumber store. My parents met in college, and my mother fell pregnant, she finished school, but my father had to drop out and get a job to support us.
It was rough sometimes because they lived paycheck to paycheck and could only afford the necessities. I went to public school my whole life, but what I lacked in luxury at home, my parents love made up for it. My parents loved each other, and that love was passed down in their parenting. I couldn’t have asked for better parents. They provided for me by giving me a roof over my head and warm meals laced with love.
The driver opens the back passenger door and proceeds to get my three suitcases out of the trunk. It’s everything I own and basically the clothes on my back. My parents were out for a night on the town when they were sideswiped by a semi-truck. Both my parents died instantly. Just thinking about them brings a sting to the back of my eyes. Since my parents didn’t have savings and had loans on practically everything they owned, the bank sold the house and everything that was left was paid to creditors. I was left with nothing at the age of seventeen. No money, no house, and no place to live.
The good news was that my mother’s neighbor is a housekeeper and heard of an opening for a housekeeper nearby where she worked on this side of town. The family in needing the job to be filled immediately heard of my situation, spoke to the social worker and rather then being sent to foster care, the judge granted them temporary custody for four months until I turned eighteen. The stipulation is that I work the maximum number of hours a seventeen-year-old can work after school and they would provide room and board to include paid tuition to Spencer Academy for my entire senior year.
The double doors open, and a butler immediately greets me by the name of John.
“Hello, you must be Aura."
I give him a nervous smile. “Yes.”
“I will have your belongings brought to the maid’s quarters so you can get settled in.”
I never thought in my wildest dreams I would be a housekeeper to some rich family on the other side of town. I had to say goodbye to my friend Gina and boyfriend Marcus back home at Spencer High.
I was devastated by the loss of my parents. I went to therapy and grieved for two months until they were sure I didn’t need to be medicated. My friends back home promised they would be there when I would get back, but I was closed off. Marcus promised he would call me and assured me we weren’t over. I just had to finish my senior year at Spencer Academy, and I could maybe go off to college. If possible, a scholarship to a good school that would be great but if not, I would have to take out loans. In my mind, this is just temporary, but the St. Claire's don’t have to know that.
“Thank you.”
“Mrs. St. Claire will be down in a minute to give you a tour and what her expectations are while you are here.”
I nod and, in that moment, I can hear the click clacking of heels on the pristine cream marble floors.
“There she is.”
A woman in her late forties with an elegant chignon approach to wear I’m standing, making my shift dress paired with my Converse feel out of place compared to this elegant woman.
“Hello, Mrs. St. Claire. My name is Aura.”
“Yes, yes. I know, dear. Miss Locke, your neighbor, told me so much about you. I trust her judgment, and she only said great things about you. I met with the social worker, and she has assured me that everything has gone smoothly with the paperwork. I have taken the liberty to enroll you at Spencer Academy. Mr. St. Claire donates a hefty sum to the school every year, so the principal was nice and considerate to grant us this exception to have you enrolled.” She looks down at my worn sneakers and I could tell by her expression she doesn’t approve of my choice of outfit. She tries to play it off when I catch her scrutiny by giving me a dry smile. “I hope the trip over was easy and not too bad.”
“Oh yes, ma’am. Everything was perfect. I had no issues on the drive over.”
“Nonsense, please call me Diana. Ma’am makes me feel so… so old.”
“Okay, Diana.”
Looking at her closely, her light green eyes and perfect complexion could only come from Botox and a very good dermatologist. One thing I have noticed upon meeting Mrs. St. Claire, she doesn’t want to embrace her age, and cares too much about appearances.
She leads me toward a staircase that leads to the second floor. Once we reach the landing from the marble staircase that leads to a hallway, there is a room next to the laundry room. She opens the door, and at the foot of the full-size bed are my three suitcases.
“This is the room that you will be staying in. The rest of the house staff is in the downstairs wing. I put you in this room next to the laundry room for convenience and the fact that you’re younger. After school, I would need you to work for four hours cleaning the second floor and laundry. When you graduate, the head housekeeper, Miss Jean, will give you a detailed schedule. For now, I just need the second floor to include Kalum’s room, cleaned, and when his friends are over that you tidy the mess, they make. Miss Jean has had it with their mess.”
She points to a wall-to-wall closet that has four school uniforms hanging neatly pressed. “These are the school uniforms we picked up from the cleaners. The dry cleaner pickup is every Thursday before you head to school and delivery is every Saturday in the afternoon. Since there is no bus transportation, you will ride with Kalum to and from school.”
I take it Kalum is her son and he must be a senior like me. Camila told me the St. Claire's had a son that was the same age. She said that Mr. St. Claire was an equity investor tycoon and that I was in good hands.
The bonus was that the St. Claire's would also give me a two-hundred dollar allowance every week as a perk for agreeing to staying with them and taking the job after I graduate.
When Mrs. St. Claire leaves me in the room and excuses herself. I sit on the bed and scan around the room that is more luxurious than any room I have ever had. The room has a mini fridge, and flat screen TV mounted on the wall. Everything is nice and fancy, but it isn’t home and my parents are not here. No more home-cooked meals or nightly talks out on the front porch with Mom and Dad. They are gone, and it’s just me, alone.
