The Maid Who Stayed

Michael was tidying up the bedroom one afternoon; he had swept everywhere in the room. But while mopping the room he felt the nudge to also dust some old books Sarah left behind. She left them behind because they were not useful to her again.

"What is this?", Michael whispered to himself. He found an envelope inside one of those books. The book was dusty, but the envelope was still neat like it had just been delivered new.

He opened the envelope, and Michael met one of the greatest in his life. The content of the letter read this:

"Sarah,

It's time we talked about Clara and Clement. You can't keep avoiding this conversation. You know they deserve to be with me. It's not fair to keep them from their real family. Call me immediately."

Michael's hands trembled as he read the contents of the letter again and again. Saliva dried up in his mouth, his heart raced 10 times the normal beat.

"Who sent this letter to Sarah?" This question got Michael to search for the letter, reading one word after the other.

"Who could have sent this letter to Sarah?" He was sweating profusely, his underwear drenched with sweat. His mind went blank on what to do next.

He crumbled the letter in his hand in anger. After taking a deep breath, he straightened it again. "This is my evidence", he said.

A knock at the door startled him. Emilia's voice came faintly from the other side. "Michael? Are you fine?". She could hear the faint voice of Michael talking to himself.

He comports himself, "You can come in."

Emilia stepped into the room; the first thing she noticed was the drenched underwear of Michael.

"What is this? You pour water on your body. Or is it a ghost you have seen?" She wanted to be comical, but she noticed his face, tension was all over him. "What is the matter, Michael?"

Michael didn't want to open up at first, but he remembered the promise he made to her a few days back. "I found this in Sarah's things. Read it," His voice cracked.

She took the letter from him, her eyes scanned through the letter in seconds. Her face paled as she finished. "What… what does this mean? Who's asking about the kids?"

"That is the question bothering my mind since," he said, running his hand on his head. "The writer of this letter seems to be claiming Clara and Clement as his own".

"That is unbelievable!", Emilia raised an eyebrow. "And Sarah never said a word about it. Not once."

Emilia sat down beside him; she had become more troubled than Michael himself. "Do you think Sarah was… hiding something from you?". Her mind is running faster than her mouth could say. "Do you have any relatives whose kids bear the same as yours?"

Michael's gaze turned to the letter; he shook his head. "I don't want to believe that, but what else am I supposed to think? If there's nothing to hide, why didn't she tell me about this?"

"What if I didn't check her wardrobe now? How would I still know something like this existed?" Michael was feeling emotionally betrayed; he felt used and manipulated.

"Maybe it's something else the letter is passing across," Emilia offered carefully.

"Or it could be someone telling the truth," Michael said bitterly. He stood up, pacing the room. "What if there's more to this than I know? What if Sarah…?" He couldn't even finish the sentence.

Emilia focused on him; she knew his mind was troubled. "You need to talk to her, Michael. She is the one in the right position to explain this."

Michael stopped pacing around the room; he looked straight into Emilia's eyes. "You are right," he nodded positively.

"Do you think she will open up and shed light on this? She walked out on us without looking back. Not even because of her children. Would someone like that care to be open?"

"You are right, but remember the kids in question here belong to her as well. And if this letter is serious, she owes you and the kids a thorough explanation."

Michael sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "I will call her. But if she lies or she wants to try and hide something, I swear, Emilia…" His voice broke, and he looked away, swallowing hard.

Emilia stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You'll get through this. Whatever the truth is, we will face it together."

---

The call to Sarah was short and tense.

"Michael?" Her voice was guarded as if she already knew he wasn't calling for a casual chat.

"We need to see, I found something you need to explain," he said without preamble.

She hissed "I am busy Michael"

"Oh, you're not," he snapped. "I found a letter in your things. Someone's asking about Clara and Clement, and they're acting like I'm not their father. Do you care to explain?"

There was a long silence on the other end of the line; she was trying to remember if she had later disposed of the letter the day she received it.

"Meet me tomorrow," she said finally. "We will talk then."

"Where?"

"I'll text you the address."

She hung up before he could say another word.

---

That night, Michael couldn't sleep; the night became longer for him. His thoughts wandered through many things, imaginations bombarded his head. He didn't seem to understand the situation, but his resolve to get an answer from Sarah became stronger.

Emilia noticed he had ended his call with Sarah; she walked up to him. "How did it go?" She asked softly.

"She agreed to meet me," he said. "Today."

"That's good," Emilia said, though her tone was uncertain.

He glanced at her. "I don't know what I'll do if this letter is true, Emilia. If the kids aren't mine…"

She stepped closer, her gaze steady. "No matter what that letter says, Michael, those kids are yours. You've been there for them since the day they were born, taking responsibility for them. Biology doesn't change that."

Her words were a source of hope to him; he felt there was someone who understood his challenges and was ready to stay by him no matter what.