Chapter 5 – THE SERVICE CORRIDOR
The gunshot deafened me. The bullet shattered a crystal chandelier above us, raining glass down like snow.
Miller screamed as the massive engagement table pinned his leg to the floor.
“Run, Evelyn!” Adrian roared, tackling Vance around the waist to keep him away from us.
I didn’t hesitate. I scooped the silver watch off the floor, grabbed Noah’s hand, and sprinted toward the service doors behind the kitchen.
“Don’t let them get away!” Sabrina shrieked, her voice echoing wildly in the chaotic ballroom.
I threw my weight against the heavy swinging doors, pushing Noah through. The service corridor was pitch black; the catering staff had abandoned their stations when the screaming started.
We ran down the narrow hallway, the sound of heavy combat boots thudding behind us.
“Mrs. Parker, my legs hurt,” Noah sobbed, stumbling in the dark.
“I know, brave boy, I know,” I whispered fiercely, scooping all sixty pounds of him into my arms. I was fifty-eight years old, my joints ached, and my breath burned in my chest, but maternal adrenaline flooded my veins.
I burst through the stairwell doors and locked the deadbolt behind us.
We were in the servant’s staircase. It led straight up to the family’s private quarters.
Seconds later, fists pounded against the metal door.
“Open up, Evelyn!” one of Vance’s men shouted. “There’s nowhere to go. The front gates are sealed!”
I carried Noah up two flights of stairs, my muscles screaming in protest. I needed to reach Adrian’s private study on the third floor. It was the only room in the house with a reinforced steel door and an offline computer terminal. If I could plug Clara’s watch in, I could send the evidence to the authorities before Sabrina destroyed it.
We reached the second-floor landing.
Suddenly, the lights flickered and died.
The emergency backup generators didn’t kick on. Sabrina had cut the main breaker.
We were plunged into total darkness.
Noah whimpered, burying his face in my neck. “It’s too dark.”
“Close your eyes, Noah,” I whispered, setting him down gently and holding his hand. “Pretend we’re playing the midnight game. Like when you want a glass of water.”
I knew this house better than anyone. I had walked these halls for eight years, listening for a child’s cry in the night.
We crept down the second-floor hallway, feeling our way along the silk wallpaper.
We ducked into the old linen closet just as a flashlight beam sliced through the darkness at the end of the hall.
Vance.
“Come out, Mrs. Parker,” Vance’s deep voice echoed. He was dragging his baton against the wall, a terrifying scraping sound. “Sabrina just wants the watch. Give it to us, and we take the boy to Blackwood. You can walk away.”
I held my hand tightly over Noah’s mouth. My own heart was beating so loudly I thought Vance could hear it.
As I backed further into the closet, my back bumped against a heavy winter coat hanging in the back.
It smelled like lavender and old paper.
Clara’s coat.
Adrian had never let the maids throw it away. It had hung here for three years.
My fingers brushed against the deep pockets. Something stiff was inside.
I pulled it out. Even in the dim sliver of moonlight coming through the closet vent, I recognized it. It was a child’s drawing. Crayon on thick construction paper. Noah had drawn it for Clara’s birthday.
But as I flipped it over, I felt indentations on the back of the paper. Hard, frantic handwriting pressed deeply into the cardboard.
I angled it toward the moonlight.
Clara’s handwriting.
“If anything happens to me, check the trust amendment Sabrina filed. She is not who she claims to be. Sabrina Vale’s real name is Sabrina Sterling. She is my half-sister.”
The breath caught in my throat.
Sabrina wasn’t just a corporate spy. She was Clara’s estranged sister. Noah’s aunt. She had poisoned her own flesh and blood out of jealousy and greed, and now she was trying to institutionalize her own nephew to inherit the Cole empire.
A shadow fell over the closet vent.
The door handle slowly began to turn.
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