Chapter 1 - The Feed
The screen of my tablet glowed in the dim, cramped confines of the service corridor. I sat on a stack of unused linens, my breath shallow, watching the live footage from the living room camera.
The woman on the screen was Evelyn Vance. She was a world-renowned pediatric surgeon, a fixture of the city's highest social circles, and the woman whose ring sat on her finger—a five-carat diamond I had proudly given her three months ago. For the past year, my daughters, Lily, eight, and Grace, six, had called her the closest thing they had to a mother since my late wife passed away.
On screen, the front door clicked shut. Evelyn’s posture immediately shifted. The graceful, gentle tilt of her shoulders vanished, replaced by a rigid, military stiffness. She spun around to face my daughters, who were still sitting on the sofa where I had kissed them goodbye.
Lily and Grace didn't just move; they flinched. Their small shoulders pulled inward, their chins dropping toward their chests in a practiced, terrified synchronization.
"Get up," Evelyn said. The audio from the hidden microphone was crisp. Her voice lacked the soft, melodic warmth she used when speaking to me. It was sharp, cold, and dripping with an icy venom. "Your father is gone. The circus is over for the next two weeks. Go to the mudroom and fetch the cleaning buckets."
"But... Evelyn," Lily whispered, her voice trembling. "Mrs. Gable said we were going to do our reading lessons today."
Evelyn stepped closer, towering over my eight-year-old. She didn't strike her, but she leaned in so close their noses almost touched. "Mrs. Gable works for me now. And if I hear another word out of either of you before the floors are scrubbed, I will make sure the boarding school brochures I showed you become your new reality. Do you understand me?"
Both girls nodded frantically and scrambled out of the room.
May you like
My blood turned to pure ice. I had spent six months investigating missing funds from my corporate accounts, convinced that Mrs. Gable, our housekeeper of ten years, was slowly bleeding me dry because Evelyn had subtly pointed out discrepancies in the household ledgers.
I was wrong. Mrs. Gable wasn't the thief. She was the only thing standing between my children and a monster.
