the millionaire returned home without warning and suddenly heard strange noises

coming from the family’s basement laundry room when he stepped into the room

the sight that greeted him made him cry out 3:00am

the gleaming black Bentley glided smoothly through the gates of the Sterling mansion

its headlights sweeping a long sharp path across the unnaturally manicured lawn

Lucas shut off the engine and sat in the car for a moment his hand caressing the small

red velvet box containing the porcelain doll he had quickly purchased at Heathrow Airport

coming home two days early without announcement he wanted to see Sophie smile

a smile that had vanished since his wife her mother passed away

Lucas pushed the door open and stepped into the main hall the air inside the house was cold

striking his skin gone was the familiar warm scent of old oak and happier days

in its place was the overwhelming smell of lemongrass essential oil

the kind of industrial fragrance found in soulless five star hotels overpowering any trace of real life

he loosened his tie letting out a long weary sigh the house was excessively clean

almost eerily so he intended to head straight upstairs placing the gift on his daughter’s pillow

but his footsteps paused from the hallway leading down to the service area

tucked away behind the kitchen a thin stream of yellow light spilled out

cutting across the dark marble floor and then the sound faint trickling

rhythmic like water running in a quiet deserted cave at this hour

was it the automatic irrigation system or a burst water pipe Lucas changed directions

slipping off his shoes his bare feet stepping onto the ice cold stone floor

he approached the source of the light his heart beating a little faster with an odd premonition

he placed his hand on the doorknob of the service room and pushed gently the door creaked open

Lucas froze in place no water pipe had burst in the middle of the room

saturated with the strong aroma of high end laundry detergents Sophie was perched precariously on a white

plastic chair a cheap oversized stool for her tiny frame his six year old daughter was wearing cream colored

silk pajamas buttoned primly up to the neck as if ready for a tea party

her fine hair neatly tucked into a hairnet before her was a basin of steaming warm water

the surface perfectly still without a single soap bubble Sophie’s bare hands were submerged deep in the water

Lucas squinted trying to see better through the thin veil of steam Sophie was holding a specialized soft bristled brush

the kind used for grooming race horses or expensive fur coats

she moved the brush over the collar of a woman’s white silk shirt slowly

gently with frightening meticulousness this was not the playful splashing of a child

this was the precise maneuver of a seasoned professional repeated like a pre programmed machine

without a single wasted motion Lucas stepped closer

only to notice that her small hands were white the skin on her fingertips wrinkled and pallid from being soaked too long

they trembled slightly but every time the brush touched the fabric the trembling vanished

Lucas placed his large hand on his daughter’s shoulder Sophie

she slowly turned her head Sophie’s large round eyes were deeply shadowed

and sunken in their sockets but there was no sign of sleepiness

only intense concentration of vacant soulless blankness that reflected the harsh

neon light of the ceiling Sophie looked at her father then down at his hand resting on her shoulder

she gently very gently used her wet hand to remove Lucas’s hand

she put her index finger to her mouth signaling silence shh daddy

you’re too loud the fibers will get startled her voice was a dry reedy whisper

then she turned back to the basin continuing her work on the shirt as if Lucas’s presence were merely a fleeting illusion

a surge of anger flared in Lucas’s chest he reached out attempting to pull the brush away

that’s enough Sophie stop this right now but Sophie clung tightly to the edge of the basin

her entire small body tensed up her feet gripping the slippery plastic stool

to resist her father’s pull she didn’t look at him her eyes fixed on a faint smudge on the shirt collar

murmuring like an incantation not clean enough not soft enough

Mummy Bella will be sad must finish Lucas intended to lift her up

regardless of her resistance just then the service room door behind him opened wide

Isabella stood there blocking the cold air draft from the hallway that rushed into the steam

heated laundry room she wasn’t wearing messy night clothes like someone who had just been woken up

in the middle of the night she was dressed in a form fitting black yoga outfit that emphasized her toned physique

her face lightly made up and flawless in her hands an iPad screen cast a pale blue glow

clearly illuminating her strangely alert eyes she walked into the room the soft

rubber soles of her shoes making almost no SoundOn the tiled floor

she walked straight past Lucas treating him like an invisible obstruction heading directly towards Sophie

who was huddled on the stool Isabella bent down her long manicured fingers lightly brushing the wet

silk shirt collar Sophie was clutching she gently stroked the fabric

checking its cleanliness then nodded almost imperceptibly the anger choked in Lucas’s throat erupted

he quickly stepped forward blocking the space between Isabella and his daughter

pointing directly at the wall clock ticking past 3:20 in the morning

explain yourself right now Isabella didn’t flinch she raised a hand toward Lucas

her palm facing him in a gesture to stop while her eyes never left the iPad screen

her finger quickly swiped across the glass inputting data into some complex spreadsheet

you are disrupting her biological rhythm Lucas lower your voice

biological rhythm at 3 in the morning look at her she’s 6 years old