Chapter 4 - What the Homeowner Pays
I didn't sleep much after that night on the kitchen floor. I kept hearing his voice in my head, low and steady. Someone is stealing from my employees. I didn't know what was on that phone, not really, and I was too scared to ask again.
The next morning he didn't go to work. That was strange. Mr. Reyes was usually gone by seven, his car backing down the driveway while I wiped the counters. But that day I heard him in the office next to the kitchen, the one with the glass doors and the filing cabinets, pacing.
I was folding laundry in the hallway when he called out to me.
"Lena, can you bring me coffee? And then leave the invoices on my desk? They're in the drawer by the fridge."
I brought the tray in. The office smelled like paper and cedar. His laptop was open and there were stacks of white envelopes from BrightNest Domestic Agency spread across the desk. He was still in a dark T-shirt and sweatpants, no watch, his hair pushed back. He looked tired.
"Thanks," he said. "Just set it there."
I tried not to stare, but I saw the top sheet. BrightNest logo in blue. Monthly Service Statement. Staff member: Lena M. Client rate: $2,400.00.
My hands stopped. Twenty-four hundred. I was paid fourteen hundred. I knew there were fees, I'd told myself that for months. Agencies take a cut. But a thousand dollars? That didn't feel like a fee.
He must have seen my face change because he flipped the paper over.
"Can you give me a few minutes? I need to make some calls," he said, not unkind.
I nodded and went back to the laundry, but I left the door cracked. I know I shouldn't have listened. I was scared to lose my housing if I got caught snooping. But I couldn't move.
He was on speaker. A woman answered.
"Priya, it's Daniel. Sorry to bother you early."
"No problem," she said. She sounded wide awake. "What's up?"
"I need you to pull my BrightNest payments. Last six months. Every invoice, every wire. And break it down per staffer."
A pause, clicking keys. "You think there's an issue?"
"I pay twenty-four hundred per person. Lena just told me she gets fourteen. That's a grand a month per head missing."
My stomach dropped hearing him say it out loud. I pressed my back against the wall and held my breath.
"That's a big spread," Priya said. "Even with placement and insurance, their margin should be maybe three, four hundred tops. You have three through them, right? Lena, Marcus, and Elena?"
"Yeah. So that's three thousand a month. Eighteen grand over six months if it's consistent."
I heard his chair creak. He stood up and walked to the window.
"Don't contact BrightNest yet," he said quickly. "I mean it. No email, no audit request. If someone's skimming, I don't want them shredding anything."
"Understood," Priya said. "I'll pull the bank side only. I can have the six-month summary by this afternoon. You want deposits on their end too?"
"I can't get those without the staff. I'll have to ask."
After he hung up, it was quiet for a long time. I heard him flipping pages, then the printer humming. I folded the same towel three times.
Then he opened the door. I jumped.
He didn't look mad that I'd been standing there. Just tired.
"Lena," he said. "Can I ask you something? And you can say no."
I nodded, my throat tight.
"On your phone, you have that BrightNest worker app, right? Where your pay stubs show?"
"Yes, sir."
"If you're willing, I'd like to look at it with you. Just your deposit history. I won't change anything or message them. I just need to compare what they billed me to what you actually got. It would help me figure out if this is a mistake or... something else."
He didn't tell me the total. He didn't say eighteen thousand. But I'd heard enough through the door to feel sick.
I thought about Dina's warning at orientation. Don't make trouble or you'll be replaced. I thought about my room upstairs, the small bed and the lock on the door, the first safe place I'd had in months. If BrightNest pulled me, I'd lose both the job and the housing.
"Please don't tell them I showed you," I whispered.
May you like
"I won't," he said. "I promise. Nothing leaves this house until we know for sure."
I didn't say yes yet. I just stood there with the warm laundry in my arms, staring at the floor, trying to decide if letting him look would save me or get me fired.
