“Emily, come here,” Richard said in a low, steady voice as he stepped inside.

The housekeeper froze. She hadn’t expected him home so soon. Emily flinched at the sound of her father’s voice, expecting anger, but instead, he bent down, lifted her gently, and held her close until her shaking stopped.

“I… I just wanted her to learn responsibility,” the housekeeper whispered, her voice trembling.

“Responsibility?” Richard’s tone turned to steel. “By forcing a grieving child to scrub floors while you stand by doing nothing?” His eyes hardened. “You’ve crossed a line.”

He didn’t shout. He didn’t need to. The authority in his voice was enough.

“Pack your things,” he said. “You’re done here.”