Chapter 3 - What Was Hidden on the DriveJudith waited until the engagement dinner reached its loudest point.
Her daughter wore the yellow backpack Elena had bought at a discount store in September. Her dark ponytail was crooked, exactly the way it always was after school. She was holding hands with Mrs. Patterson, the elderly neighbor who picked her up on days Elena worked late.
The photo had been taken from across the street.
Not by accident.
Not from social media.
Someone had been watching Sofia.
“Where did you get that?”
Victoria slipped the phone against her chest.
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“Not nearly as much as what happens next.”
Elena’s throat tightened.
“If anyone touches my daughter—”
“What?” Victoria asked softly. “You’ll call the police?”
“I will.”
“And tell them what?”
Victoria gestured toward the luxurious room.
“That you opened your employer’s private belongings and stole something?”
Elena said nothing.
“That’s what I thought.”
Victoria walked toward the vanity and studied her reflection as if their conversation were no more important than choosing lipstick.
She removed one glove.
Then the other.
“I can make this very simple. Give me the drive.”
Elena tried the bedroom handle again.
Victoria had locked it from the inside, but the key was still in the lock.
Elena turned it.
Victoria’s expression sharpened.
“Elena.”
“I have work downstairs.”
“You’re not leaving.”
Elena opened the door.
Victoria caught her arm.
Elena twisted away.
For one second they struggled.
Then voices came from the corridor.
Ethan’s.
And Margaret Blackwood’s.
Victoria immediately released her.
Everything in her face changed.
Panic vanished.
So did the anger.
In its place appeared the gracious smile the world knew.
The door opened.
Ethan Blackwood stood there.
At forty-two, Ethan had the kind of presence that filled a room before he spoke. Tall, dark-haired, dressed in a navy suit that fit perfectly, he had spent twenty years building Blackwood Infrastructure into one of the largest private construction and energy companies in America.
Beside him stood his mother.
Margaret Blackwood was seventy-two and still elegant despite the tiredness that had shadowed her face for months.
Ethan looked from Victoria to Elena.
“What happened?”
Victoria answered first.
“Nothing.”
Ethan frowned.
“I heard something fall.”
Victoria laughed lightly.
“Elena startled me. That’s all.”
Elena looked at Ethan.
This was her chance.
Tell him.
Show him the drive.
Tell him everything.
Then Victoria spoke.
“I was just asking Elena whether Sofia is enjoying St. Catherine’s.”
Elena’s heart stopped.
Ethan smiled.
“Your daughter goes there?”
Elena forced herself to nod.
“Second grade.”
“My foundation helped renovate their library last year.”
“I know.”
“You should bring her sometime. My mother loves children.”
Margaret smiled faintly.
“I do.”
Victoria stepped closer to Ethan and linked her arm through his.
“Isn’t it wonderful how much we know about the people who work for us?”
The words sounded harmless.
The warning inside them was not.
Elena lowered her eyes.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ethan watched her.
Something about Elena’s expression bothered him.
She was usually composed.
Reliable.
Quiet but warm.
Now her face looked pale.
“Elena, are you feeling all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
Victoria’s grip tightened around his arm.
“She’s probably overwhelmed. Everyone is. This wedding has turned the house upside down.”
Elena finally looked directly at Ethan.
She wanted him to understand.
She wanted him to see that something was wrong.
But what could she say with Victoria standing three feet away and a photograph of Sofia still burning in her mind?
“I should go downstairs.”
Ethan hesitated.
“Of course.”
Elena passed him.
She had made it only halfway down the corridor when she heard Victoria behind her.
“Darling, you promised you’d look at the seating chart.”
Elena kept walking.
She did not breathe normally until she reached the servants’ staircase.
Then she ran.
Not toward the kitchen.
Toward the employee locker room.
She shut herself inside, reached into her apron, and pulled out the flash drive.
It was smaller than her thumb.
Something so tiny should not have felt so dangerous.
She needed to get it out of the house.
She pulled out her phone.
No signal in the basement.
“Come on.”
She raised it.
Nothing.
Then the employee door opened.
Elena nearly screamed.
Mrs. Judith Dalton entered.
The sixty-eight-year-old house manager had worked for the Blackwoods longer than Elena had been alive. Her silver hair was pinned neatly at the back of her head. Nothing happened in the estate without Judith knowing about it.
She took one look at Elena.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
Judith closed the door.
“I have known you three years. You cry only when Sofia is sick or when someone threatens something you love. Your daughter called the kitchen twenty minutes ago asking whether you’d be home for bedtime, so she’s fine.”
Elena’s fingers closed around the drive.
Judith’s eyes narrowed.
“What happened?”
Elena whispered, “Can I trust you?”
Judith’s expression changed.
“With your life.”
Elena looked toward the door.
“Maybe that’s what I’m asking.”
She opened her hand.
Judith stared at the drive.
“What is that?”
“I found it in Victoria’s room.”
Judith went still.
“Where?”
“Inside a pillow.”
“What else?”
“Medicine. Bottles. Ethan’s name. Mrs. Blackwood’s name.”
Judith’s face lost color.
“And Charles?”
Elena looked at her.
“Yes.”
Judith sat down.
For several seconds she said nothing.
Then she whispered, “Dear God.”
“You knew?”
“No.”
“But you suspected something.”
Judith looked toward the ceiling as though she could see through three floors of marble and plaster.
“Mr. Blackwood was healthy for a seventy-four-year-old man until six months before he died. Then suddenly he was falling asleep at breakfast. Forgetting meetings. Slurring words.”
“They said it was neurological.”
“The doctors couldn’t explain it.”
“Victoria was giving him tea.”
Judith closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Elena sat across from her.
“What do I do?”
“Give me the drive.”
Elena hesitated.
“If she searches me—”
“She won’t find it.”
Judith held out her hand.
“I know this house better than she does.”
Elena handed it over.
Judith tucked it inside her blouse.
“Now you go downstairs and behave as if nothing happened.”
“She has a picture of Sofia.”
Judith froze.
“What?”
“She had someone photograph my daughter outside school.”
Judith’s expression hardened.
“Then this is bigger than a cheating fiancée or stolen money.”
“I have to get Sofia.”
“You will.”
“Now.”
“And if Victoria follows you?”
Elena’s eyes filled.
“I don’t care.”
“You should.”
Judith leaned closer.
“If Victoria believes you have the drive, she’ll watch you. If she thinks you passed it to someone, she’ll look for that person. The safest thing you can do for Sofia is make Victoria believe she still controls you.”
Elena hated that Judith was right.
Upstairs, music began.
The engagement dinner had started.
Two hundred guests filled the Blackwood estate.
Politicians.
Investors.
Executives.
Journalists.
Friends.
People who adored Victoria.
People who would never believe a maid if Victoria called her unstable.
Judith stood.
“I will make a copy.”
“How?”
“Charles installed a private computer in his old study. No network connection.”
“Why?”
“Because he trusted paper more than clouds.”
Despite everything, Elena almost smiled.
Judith touched her shoulder.
“Go.”
Elena left.
For the next forty minutes she carried champagne through rooms glowing with chandeliers.
Victoria stood beside Ethan greeting guests.
Perfect smile.
Perfect posture.
Perfect future billionaire bride.
Nobody noticed the way she watched Elena.
Nobody except Margaret.
At 8:17 p.m., Margaret approached Elena beside the dining room.
“Elena.”
“Yes, Mrs. Blackwood?”
Margaret leaned closer.
“Did Victoria give you anything?”
Elena’s pulse jumped.
“What?”
“Tonight.”
“No.”
Margaret looked disappointed.
Then frightened.
“She gives everyone things.”
Elena glanced toward Victoria.
“What kind of things?”
Margaret touched her temple.
“I don’t remember.”
Her voice broke.
“That’s the problem.”
Before Elena could respond, Ethan joined them.
“Mom, you’re supposed to be sitting.”
“I’m talking to Elena.”
“I can see that.”
Margaret clutched Elena’s wrist.
“She knows.”
Ethan frowned.
“Knows what?”
Margaret stared at him.
For one moment, perfect clarity came into her eyes.
“That your fiancée is killing us.”
Silence.
Ethan looked at Elena.
Then at his mother.
“Mom—”
Victoria appeared behind him carrying a glass of champagne.
“There you are.”
Margaret recoiled.
“No.”
Victoria smiled gently.
“You forgot your medication.”
Elena stared at the tiny white tablet resting in Victoria’s palm.
Ethan sighed.
“Mom, take it.”
“No.”
“It helps you sleep.”
“No!”
Guests began looking over.
Victoria lowered her voice.
“Margaret, please.”
Elena stepped forward.
“I’ll take her upstairs.”
Victoria’s eyes met hers.
“No.”
The word was quiet.
Absolute.
Margaret suddenly knocked Victoria’s hand away.
The pill bounced across the marble floor.
And Elena saw something Ethan did not.
For half a second, Victoria’s mask disappeared.
What replaced it was rage.
Then she smiled again.
“It’s okay.”
But Elena knew.
Victoria had just realized something important.
Elena had not run.
She had not called the police.
She was still in the house.
May you like
Which meant the missing flash drive might be there too.
And Victoria Sinclair was going to tear the mansion apart until she found it.
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