The crystal chandeliers of the Dallas luxury dining hall glittered above the white linen tables. Sunlight poured through the tall glass windows, lighting up the polished marble floors and high-end decor. Clara adjusted the green vest of her waitress uniform, keeping her head low as she refilled water glasses for the lunch rush.

Clara: Excuse me, sir. Let me top off your water.

Richard: Thanks. Make it quick, we're in a hurry.

Clara stepped closer to the high chair attached to the side of the table. A little girl with soft brown curls sat playing with a small plush bunny. Clara’s breath caught in her chest as she leaned down, a gentle smile crossing her face.

Clara: Hey there, sweetheart.

The toddler stopped playing and looked up. Big, tear-filled eyes locked onto Clara’s face. The little girl reached out a tiny hand and pressed her fingers against Clara’s metal name tag, squeezing the soft metal frame.

Toddler: Ma... Ma...

The word echoed through the silent air of the upscale dining room. Clara froze, her hand shaking so violently that water sloshed over the rim of the pitcher onto the white tablecloth. She hadn't heard that voice in three long, agonizing years.

Clara: What did you just say, baby?

Richard slammed his palm onto the mahogany table, sending his fork clattering against the fine china. He scrambled out of his chair, his jaw set in absolute fury as he towered over the young waitress.

Richard: NO ONE IS SUPPOSED TO CALL HER THAT!

Clara: They told me she died in the hospital three years ago! They told me my baby girl didn't survive!

Richard: IF YOU LIED TO US, YOU'RE PAYING FOR THIS! WE'RE FINDING OUT THE TRUTH RIGHT NOW!

Clara dropped to her knees right there on the cold marble floor, clutching the small toy bunny the little girl had dropped, unable to stop the torrent of tears spilling over her cheeks.