Chapter 2 - THE ENVELOPE
Margaret didn’t blink.
“Marcus reported previous incidents.”
“Not this one,” Marcus said.
A faint line appeared beside her mouth.
“Then I assumed. Her performance has become a concern.”
Ethan opened the envelope.
Three photographs slid onto his desk. Maya asleep in the laundry room. Maya folded over a counter. Maya slumped in his office.
The last image showed the water glass exactly where it stood now.
He lifted it.
“When was this taken?”
Margaret’s eyes flicked toward Marcus.
Ethan caught it.
“Answer me.”
“The household cameras are accessible from the staff office.”
“You watched her collapse and printed a photograph?”
“I documented misconduct.”
Maya pressed her trembling hands between her knees.
“Please,” she said. “I need my final paycheck.”
Margaret turned to her with practiced disappointment.
“We’ll discuss deductions.”
“Deductions for what?” Ethan asked.
“An inventory discrepancy.”
“What inventory?”
“The west archive. A silver presentation watch is missing.”
Maya’s head snapped up.
“I’ve never been inside that room.”
“You were assigned the adjoining corridor.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“Enough,” Ethan said.
Margaret straightened, apparently mistaking the command for support.
He picked up his phone.
“Dr. Chen? I need you at the house. Now.”
Margaret took one step forward.
“Surely that’s unnecessary.”
Ethan looked at her until she stopped moving.
He told Marcus to remain with Maya, then turned to Noah.
“Preserve the camera footage. All of it. Nobody deletes anything.”
For the first time, Margaret’s composure shifted.
“Ethan, I’ve served this family for twelve years.”
“Then you know where the sitting room is. Wait there.”
After she left, Maya covered her face.
“I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”
“Why?”
“Because now she knows I noticed.”
Ethan sat across from her.
“What did you notice?”
For several seconds, Maya listened to the hallway.
“Tuesday night. Around two. A truck came to the east loading door.”
“Deliveries happen.”
“Not with the cameras turned toward the ceiling.”
Marcus looked up.
Maya kept going.
“Mrs. Davenport was there. So was a man in a gray coat. They were carrying boxes out of the archive.”
“Did you see his face?”
“No.”
“What happened when they saw you?”
“She asked whether I’d finished upstairs.”
“And then?”
“My schedule changed the next morning.”
Ethan’s phone lit up on the table.
A message from the estate’s facilities manager.
ARCHIVE SHREDDING PICKUP CONFIRMED. 6:00 A.M.
May you like
He checked the clock.
5:41.
