Then I realized who he was.
David Harrison was the CEO of the construction company where Mark worked.
I had seen his picture on the company website.
Mark talked about him often.
Mr. Harrison was apparently demanding, intelligent, extremely private, and not easily impressed.
The first time I cleaned his house, I expected him to be intimidating.
Instead, he was surprisingly polite.
He always thanked me.
He never complained about the work.
Sometimes we spoke for a few minutes.
Mostly about ordinary things.
The weather.
His garden.
The books he liked.
His late wife.
He lived alone in a beautiful house on the edge of town.
His wife had died several years earlier, and although he never spoke about her for long, I could tell he still missed her.
Over time, I became more than the woman who cleaned his house.
I became someone he trusted.
And that was where everything changed.
It happened on a Tuesday morning.
I was cleaning the study when I noticed several documents spread across Mr. Harrison’s desk.
I wasn’t snooping.
I had no reason to.
But one sheet had fallen onto the floor.
I picked it up.
I glanced at the name at the top.
