Chapter 16
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The domestic-worker advocacy program occupied the second floor of a modest brick building downtown, far removed from the pristine, echoing halls of estates like the one William once owned. My office was small, practical, and lined with filing cabinets containing the stories of women and men who had seen too much while polishing silver or scrubbing marble floors. It was a Tuesday morning when Sofia walked through my door. She was twenty-two, originally from Guatemala, and possessed the kind of quiet, watchful demeanor that I immediately recognized. It was the posture of someone whose survival depended entirely on remaining invisible in rooms filled with powerful people.
Sofia sat in the chair across from my desk, her hands clutching a worn leather purse so tightly that her knuckles were entirely white.
"You are Emma," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, glancing nervously at the closed door.
"I am," I replied, keeping my tone gentle and steady. "You are perfectly safe here, Sofia. No one knows you came to this office, and nothing you say leaves this room unless you explicitly ask me to share it. Do you want something to drink? Water? Tea?"
"No," she said quickly, shaking her head.
She took a deep, trembling breath.
"I heard about your program from a friend who cleans houses in the Heights," Sofia began, her eyes darting around the small room. "She said you teach us how to protect ourselves. She said you know what it is like to work for people who believe they own the world and everything in it."
"I do," I confirmed quietly, leaning back in my chair to give her a sense of space. "I worked in a house like that for a long time. What kind of house do you work in, Sofia?"
"I work for the Mercer family," she said, the name dropping heavily into the room.
Arthur Mercer was a prominent real estate developer, a man whose name frequently graced the society pages right alongside the philanthropic elite.
"I am a nanny," Sofia continued, her voice trembling. "Or, I was supposed to be. I was hired to look after Mr. Mercer's nephew, Leo. His parents died in a boating accident two years ago. Mr. Mercer took him in. But... something is very wrong, Emma."
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"Tell me," I said, picking up my pen.
"They told everyone Leo was sent away to a special boarding school in Switzerland," Sofia whispered, tears welling in her dark eyes. "But he isn't in Switzerland. He is still in the house. And they are keeping him locked in the basement."
