Chapter 2 - Shadows in the Kitchen
The estate was completely silent at two in the morning, save for the distant, rhythmic crashing of the ocean waves against the cliffs.
I crept out of the guest suite, keeping to the edges of the hallway where the floorboards wouldn't creak.
My hearing was still muffled, a persistent buzzing masking the ambient sounds of the house.
I made my way down the service stairs, heading straight for the massive, industrial-grade kitchen.
The moonlight spilled across the marble countertops, illuminating a figure standing near the pantry.
It was Elena, Leo's mother, scrubbing a stubborn stain out of a catering apron.
I stepped into the light, raising a hand to show I meant no harm.
She gasped, dropping the scrub brush, her eyes wide with fear as she recognized me.
"Mr. Vance, I swear I was just cleaning up," she whispered, her voice trembling.
I quickly signed to her, Where is Leo?
Elena looked stunned, realizing I was fluent in the language her son relied on.
He is sleeping in our room, she signed back, her hands shaking.
He told me about the medicine, I signed, holding her gaze steadily.
Elena burst into silent tears, covering her mouth with both hands to stifle her sobs.
I tried to tell him to stay quiet, but he is too smart, she signed, tears streaming down her face.
Please, you have to tell me what you saw, I pleaded with my hands.
She hesitated, glancing nervously toward the main staircase as if Cassandra might appear at any second.
Miss Cassandra has a locked box in the kitchen pantry, behind the imported truffles, Elena signed rapidly.
She puts three drops of a clear liquid into your food and your tea every single night.
I saw her doing it weeks ago, but she threatened to have me deported if I ever spoke a word of it.
Anger flared in my chest, hot and blinding, but I forced myself to remain calm.
I walked over to the pantry, pulling aside the expensive jars of truffles until my fingers brushed against a small metal lockbox.
It was secured with a digital keypad, but Cassandra always used the same pin code for everything: her own birthdate.
I punched in the numbers, and the box clicked open with a soft mechanical sigh.
May you like
Inside sat a small, unmarked glass vial filled with a viscous, odorless fluid, alongside a glass dropper.
I carefully slipped the vial into my pocket, knowing this tiny bottle held the key to my survival.
