I took a job bathing a paralyzed billionaire because my children were starving and I had no other choice. I told myself it was only work, only a…

The first button opened.

Then the second.

An old scar crossed Mr. Bennett’s shoulder.

The third button revealed the thin silver chain around his neck.

I barely noticed it at first.

Then the pendant slipped free.

A small oval locket.

Silver.

Scratched along one edge.

Two initials engraved across the front.

R.M.

Everything inside me stopped.

The towel fell from my hand.

Mr. Bennett looked down.

Then back at me.

“What?”

My knees gave out.

I caught the edge of the sink.

“No.”

His expression hardened.

“What is it?”

I stared at the locket.

There was no possibility of mistake.

I knew the tiny dent near the clasp.

I knew the uneven engraving.

I

knew the mark on the back where a child had once scratched a crooked star with the tip of a sewing needle.