Chapter 3 - THE STRIPPING OF MASKS
I stood up and walked slowly toward the hallway, my heels clicking in a slow, rhythmic beat.
The Caldwell family turned to look at me as if I were a stranger who had just broken into their home.
Beatrice’s face was red, her eyes bulging with a mix of terror and fury.
“Harper! What is the meaning of this sick joke? Unlock this door right now!”
“Why?” I asked mildly, stopping a few feet away. “So your son can walk out in front of his family with the twenty-year-old maid he’s been sleeping with in my bathtub?”
Richard gasped, taking a sharp step back.
Julian’s sister, Clara, covered her mouth with both hands.
“That’s a lie!” Beatrice shrieked, though her eyes darted frantically around the room. “She’s framing him! Julian would never—”
“I have the cameras, Beatrice,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper that cut through the hallway like a razor. “I have the footage from the kitchen. I have the footage from the office. And most importantly...”
I pulled out my tablet and tapped the screen, turning it toward the crowd.
“...I have the audio from three days ago. The conversation where you told your son how to bleed me dry before filing for divorce.”
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Beatrice went dead silent.
Her cheeks drained of color until she looked as ghostly as the steam leaking beneath the bathroom door.
