Beldana Rusev

I'm originally from a small town in Bulgaria, but I've been living on the outskirts of London for over ten years, working as a cleaner in the city's posh neighborhoods. I'm not employed by any company; instead, I work freelance and have built a loyal client base over the years. These clients trust me deeply, giving me keys to their homes. Some of them are incredibly wealthy, and though it would be easy to steal from them, I've always been honest and reliable.

Recently, I was put to the test in an unusual situation. One day, I was cleaning the apartment of a very wealthy client in Knightsbridge. As usual, I went into the bathroom to wash the towels. When I opened the washing machine, I found dozens of wads of money in the drum. My client had apparently hidden the money there and forgotten that I was coming to clean.

For a moment, I stood there, staring at the money. As a single mother in an expensive city like London, every penny counts. The temptation was real, but it passed quickly. I've always prided myself on my honesty. I closed the washing machine door without touching the money and continued with my chores, leaving the towels unwashed.

The following week, I returned to the Knightsbridge apartment. My client wasn't home, as usual, but there was a note on the kitchen table alongside £1000 in cash. The note read: "For your good work, discretion, and honesty." I was stunned and deeply grateful. It was an unexpected reward and reaffirmed my belief that honesty is always the best policy.

Yet, as I pocketed the £1000, I couldn't help but wonder where all the money in the washing machine had come from and why it was hidden there. It's one of those mysteries that adds a touch of intrigue to my otherwise routine life. Despite the curiosity, I remain focused on my work, upholding the trust my clients place in me. After all, trust is hard to earn and easy to lose.