Secrets We Keep (Reservatet), a Danish suspense series on Netflix created by Ingeborg Topse, delves into the disappearance of a Filipina au pair from an elite suburb of Copenhagen - and delivers a sharp social commentary on racial and class entitlements.

Moving fluidly between English, Danish and Tagalog, the six-part drama is a nuanced indictment of the lack of moral accountability among the rich. On display are the prejudices and complicity of white women in enabling a culture of toxic masculinity that treats Filipina migrant women as sexualized and disposable commodities.

The story starts with a tearful Ruby Tan - a Filipina au pair who works for the affluent Rasmus (Lars Ranthe) and Katarina (Danica Curcic) - asking for some help with her employers from her neighbour, Cecilie (Marie Bach Hansen).

Cecilie is a successful non-profit manager and mother of two married to a high-profile lawyer. She employs Angel (Excel Busano), a Filipina au pair. Cecilie tells Ruby (Donna Levkovski) she cannot get involved.

The next day, Ruby vanishes without a trace.

The series is propelled by Cecilie's guilt in refusing to help Ruby. She is shocked at her neighbours' apparent lack of concern for Ruby's disappearance.

Cecilie begins to sleuth for clues regarding Ruby's disappearance and she eventually decides to assist Aicha (Sara Fanta Traore), a racialized policewoman assigned to find the missing au pair. Cecilie discovers a pregnancy kit by a trash bin where she had last seen Ruby. And she soon suspects Ruby's employer, Rasmus, of raping her.

While the series lacks true suspense due to its predictable story arc peppered with clues about Ruby's disappearance, it is amply compensated by a sharp critique on the moral decay of modern society, systemic racism and the complicity of women in upholding white masculine privilege.

Secrets We Keep lays bare the warped world view of rich, white privilege, racism and the sexual fetishism of Asian women.

At a dinner party one night, Rasmus and Katarina do not seem concerned about their missing au pair. Katarina labels Filipina au pairs as whores working in brothels. When discussing Ruby, Katarina says, "she probably ran off to do porn."

In one uncomfortable scene, Rasmus taunts Cecilia's husband, Mike (Simon Sears), about his sexual preferences. Mike responds by saying: "I don't have 'yellow fever.'" Cecilia sits silently beside Mike.

Katarina also calls Aicha (Sara Fanta Traore), the policewoman, "the little brown one."

At a formal dinner, Rasmus tells Cecilia: "We stick together. We are from the same world, and we are loyal to each other."

The reduction of Ruby into a sexual object in the show reflects the high rates of sexual violence against Filipina au pairs in Scandinavia.

It led the Philippines to ban the participation of Scandinavian countries in its "informal labour" arrangement in 1998. Though the ban was lifted in 2010, Au Pair Network, an advocacy group, reveals that the program is still riddled with abuse.

The Nordic Paradox is a term used to describe how Scandinavian countries, including Denmark, rank the highest in the Gender Equality Index yet suffer from very high rates of violence against women and intimate partner violence in Europe.

At a recent gender studies conference in Stockholm, Ardis Ingvars, a sociologist at the University of Iceland who worked as an au pair for a year in the United States just after she turned 18, recalls her anxiety and apprehension as she moved to Boston.

She said:

"Au pairs hope to be lucky with the family turning out OK. What is difficult to take is the attitude of 'ownership' that the children and families display over the au pairs as an unquestioned entitlement."

Ingvars said asymmetrical power relations embedded within the au pair system reinforce racial and class hierarchies.

This is reflected in Secrets We Keep. Midway during Aicha's investigation, as she hits roadblock after roadblock, she cries out in frustration: "She's a fucking nobody in their world."

Economic globalization, neoliberal policies and an increased dependence on the remittance economy fuses with the care gap in the Global North to fuel the feminized care migration from the Global South, many of them Filipino women.

Au pairs are placed with host families who provide free board and meals in return for up to 30 hours a week of housework and child care as they learn the host language and customs. The au pairs are paid "pocket money" of Danish Kroner 5,000 per month (approx $1,000 Canadian) out of which they also pay local taxes.

One scene shows one of Cecilie's work meetings. A junior staff member expresses surprise that Cecilie has an au pair, labelling it a relic of colonial era racial hierarchies.

Cecilie defends herself, and says the system survives because of the failure of men to keep up their domestic bargain and thus the need for women like her "to outsource care."

She argues the Filipina au pairs "are dependable" and she is "a much better mother" because of Angel. But Cecilie doesn't acknowledge her privilege - that to be with her children and have a career is predicated on the exploitative extraction of care from Global South women.

The female au pairs in Denmark must be between 18-29 years of age, childless, never married and at the end of two years, return home. Almost 50 to 75 per cent of au pairs in Denmark are Filipino women

Cecilie's shock at finding out that Angel has a son whom she left behind in the Philippines is part of her denial. In the end, Cecilie is unable to confront her own complicity and decides to release Angel from their au pair arrangement.

"You know nothing about my world...You are very lucky," cries Angel in anguish as Cecilie hands her the return ticket and an extra three months' pay to demonstrate her magnanimity.

Secrets We Keep reveals the brutal reality for Global South au pairs as well as upper-class white women and their entitlements. It indicates that even though these white wealthy women may see mistreatment, they maintain their silence and participate in wilful gendered violence to hold onto that privilege, while maintaining a facade of compassion towards the disposable racial migrant other.