At my anniversary, my mother-in-law raised her glass: «To the daughter of a cleaning lady who got married successfully!» My husband was choking with laughter and filming it on his phone. My mother stood up and said three words, after which my mother-in-law turned pale…

As Ellen cooked, Anna shared Steven’s call and the online frenzy. “This will blow over,” Ellen said philosophically, chopping vegetables. “People will find something else to talk about.”

“Margaret’s in the hospital,” Anna said. “Hypertension crisis.”

Ellen paused, then asked carefully, “Do you feel guilty?”

Anna thought. “No. Maybe I should, but I don’t. She got what she earned. If you spread malice for years, it comes back eventually.”

“Exactly,” Ellen nodded. “You can’t carry others’ burdens.”

Over dinner, they talked about the future—maybe a new job for Anna, a fresh start. “Maybe even a new city,” Ellen suggested. “Chicago or Miami. With your skills, you’ll find work.”

“What about you?” Anna asked.

“What about me?” Ellen shrugged. “I’ll find work anywhere. My hands are always needed.”

Anna looked at her mother—her calloused hands, graying hair, lines around her eyes. This woman had sacrificed everything for her daughter, never complaining, never asking for thanks. “I’m so proud of you, Mom,” Anna said suddenly. “Always have been.”

Ellen blushed. “Oh, come on. I’m just ordinary.”

“No, you’re not,” Anna insisted. “You’re the strongest person I know. And I’m proud to be a janitor’s daughter, if the janitor is you.”

They talked late into the night. Ellen stayed over, refusing to go home so late. Before bed, Anna checked her phone—more messages and one missed call from Steven. She ignored it and opened a text from Olivia. “You okay? Holding up? Coming to work tomorrow?”

She didn’t want to, but hiding wasn’t an option. “I’ll be there,” she replied. “Time to move forward.”

Morning brought an insistent knock. Anna, barely awake and coffee-less, opened the door, expecting Steven. Instead, Margaret stood there, pale with dark circles but in her usual sharp suit, not hospital garb. “Hello,” Anna said coolly, surprised.

“I’m here to talk,” Margaret said curtly. “May I come in?”

Anna stepped aside. Ellen emerged from the kitchen, hearing voices, and froze, seeing their guest. “You’re here too,” Margaret noted, lips tight. “Good. This concerns you both.”

“Come to the living room,” Anna said, closing the door. “Tea?”

“No need for pleasantries,” Margaret snapped. “This is business.”

They entered the living room. Margaret stood, refusing a seat. “Because of you,” she began, glaring at Ellen, “my reputation is ruined. Friends, colleagues from the library, all calling with condolences. I had to turn off my phone.”

“Because of me?” Ellen asked calmly. “Weren’t you the one who publicly humiliated my daughter?”

“It was a toast,” Margaret exclaimed. “A harmless joke.”

“A joke?” Anna stepped closer. “Calling me a janitor’s daughter with such contempt in front of all my guests—on my birthday—that’s a joke?”..