Thirty minutes passed quickly in the quiet house. The grandfather clock struck eight-thirty as Catherine and Robert walked down the main staircase carrying two small cloth suitcases.
Catherine was no longer wearing her silk gown; she had changed into a plain cotton dress, her hair unstyled and her eyes red from crying.
Robert walked behind her, his gray suit jacket rumpled and his posture completely broken.
Clara stood near the front double doors, holding a sleek black leather coat over her gray maid uniform.
Clara: Leave the house keys on the foyer table, Robert.
Robert pulled a heavy ring of brass keys from his pocket, setting them down on the marble table beside a crystal vase.
Robert: Clara... will I ever see you again?
Clara: You will see me in court at the preliminary hearing next month, Robert.
Catherine: You took everything from us! We have nowhere to stay tonight!
Clara: There is a cheap motel near the interstate, Catherine. That is where my mother stayed when you threw her out of this house twenty years ago.
Catherine let out a sharp gasp, her face twisting in pure hatred before Sheriff Miller stepped between them.
Sheriff Miller: That's enough, Catherine. Walk out to the driveway right now before I charge you with trespassing.
Robert took Catherine by the elbow, pulling her out through the tall front double doors into the bright morning sunlight.
The heavy iron gates at the end of the long stone driveway clicked open, and the two walked slowly down the path toward the main road, dragging their suitcases behind them.
Sheriff Miller turned to Clara, pulling off his hat and offering a warm, respectful smile.
Sheriff Miller: Your mother would be very proud of you today, Clara.
Clara: Thank you, Sheriff. For everything you did to help Mr. Vance with the court orders.
Sheriff Miller: Just doing my duty, son. If you need anything else, the department is only ten minutes away.
Clara: I appreciate it, Jim. Take care.
Sheriff Miller bowed his head and walked out to his patrol car, leaving the front doors open to let the fresh morning air sweep through the grand hallway.
Clara walked over to the foyer table, picking up the ring of brass keys Robert had left behind.
She walked up the grand staircase, her soft footsteps echoing against the high plaster ceilings as she reached the master study on the second floor.
She unbuttoned the gray maid uniform, letting it drop to the floor, and pulled on her black leather coat over her dark trousers.
She sat down behind her mother's old mahogany desk, looking out through the tall windows at the wide green lawns stretching toward the lake.
The maid uniform was gone forever. The true owner of the Vance Estate had finally returned home.