Chapter 3 - The Bitter Tea
The first warning sign came on a Tuesday afternoon.
Mrs. Gable brought up the afternoon tray—a selection of fresh fruit for Leo and a pot of chamomile tea for Cameron. The older woman’s smile was flawless, the kind of polite, submissive expression that staff wore when they wanted to blend into the woodwork.
"You've done wonders with the young master, Miss Jenkins," Mrs. Gable said, pouring the tea into a delicate porcelain cup. "The entire house is talking about it. Mr. Duca looks... lighter than he has in years."
"Thank you, Mrs. Gable," Cameron said, reaching for the cup.
Before she could lift it to her lips, Leo lunged forward. With a sudden, uncharacteristic burst of aggression, he slapped the cup out of Cameron’s hand. The porcelain shattered against the hardwood floor, the hot amber liquid splashing across Mrs. Gable’s polished leather shoes.
"Leo!" Mrs. Gable gasped, her mask slipping for a fraction of a second, her eyes flashing with a cold, sharp rage. "You bad boy!"
Leo didn't flinch. He stepped between Cameron and the housekeeper, his tiny fists clenched at his sides, his chest heaving as he stared down the older woman. He didn't scream. He just pointed at the puddle on the floor, then pointed directly at Mrs. Gable’s face.
"It’s alright, Mrs. Gable," Cameron said, her eyes narrowing as she looked from the puddle to the housekeeper’s reaction. "It was just an accident. I'll clean it up."
"No, let the maids handle it," Mrs. Gable said quickly, her voice tight as she gathered the tray. "I'll have another pot sent up."
May you like
"Don't trouble yourself," Cameron said.
When the housekeeper left, closing the door behind her, Cameron knelt down beside the puddle. The liquid had a strange, slightly metallic smell—not like chamomile at all. She took a clean linen cloth, soaked up a sample of the liquid, and hid it inside a plastic bag in her cleaning caddy. The streets of Queens had taught her to trust a child’s instinct over an adult’s smile.
