"Miss Patricia, please," Rosa’s voice filtered through the speakers, trembling but anchored in a quiet, immovable defiance. The older woman stepped completely between the girls and Patricia. Rosa wore her simple gray uniform, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "The girls are just playing. I will take them to the garden. They won't bother you."
Patricia turned her glacial glare toward Rosa. She stepped into the older woman's personal space, looking her up and down as if she were inspecting dirt on the bottom of her shoe.
"You are a maid, Rosa," Patricia sneered, her voice dripping with absolute contempt. "You clean the toilets. You wipe the counters. You do not tell me how to manage my future children. If you ever speak to me with that tone again, I will have you fired before sunset. And I will make sure you never find work in this state again."
Rosa didn't flinch. She simply nodded, her jaw set. "Yes, ma'am. Come along, girls."