Chapter 4 - The Framed Innocent
The sound of shattering glass and Sabina’s shrill, panicked screaming echoed down the grand corridors of the mansion, picking up clearly through every internal microphone.
In the monitoring room, Chadworth watched in cold disbelief as Sabina dropped to the floor beside the scattered crystal fragments. She quickly reached down, pulled a sharp piece of glass across her own palm, inflicting a shallow, bloody scratch, and then rubbed the blood across her silk blouse. She crumpled onto her side, weeping hysterically, making it appear as though she had been violently assaulted.
"That absolute sociopath," Marcus muttered under his breath, leaning forward to adjust the audio gain. "She’s setting up a physical assault claim."
"Keep recording," Chadworth commanded, his voice turning to ice. "Every single frame. Don't touch a button."
Within seconds, heavy footsteps echoed on the monitors as the remaining domestic staff rushed into the foyer. Two housekeepers, the head chef, and a butler rounded the corner, stopping dead in their tracks at the horrific scene.
"Miss Sabina!" the butler cried out, rushing forward to help her up. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
Sabina sobbed dramatically, holding her bloody palm against her chest, pointing a trembling finger toward the upper balcony. "She... she threw it at me! I tried to talk to her about the children's schedule, and she completely lost her mind!"
At that exact moment, Rosamund appeared at the top of the grand staircase, having heard the commotion from the nursery. She looked down at the shattered crystal and the weeping woman on the floor, her expression shifting from confusion to immediate, quiet dread.
"What is going on down there?" Rosamund asked, descending the stairs slowly, keeping her hands visible.
"Stay back from me!" Sabina shrieked, backing away into the butler's arms, faking terror with terrifying conviction. "Don't come near me! You've lost your mind, Rosamund! You attacked me!"
The housekeepers gasped, whispering among themselves, casting sudden, suspicious looks up at Rosamund.
"I didn't touch you," Rosamund said firmly, stopping halfway down the stairs. "I was upstairs in the nursery with Lorelai and Gemma. I heard glass break and someone screaming."
"You came down here and threw the Prescott vase at my head!" Sabina cried out, clutching her bloodied hand. "You told me I would never replace Sarah! You told me you'd make sure Chadworth kicked me out!"
Rosamund stood frozen on the steps. She realized instantly the trap that had been set around her. There were no visible security cameras in the main foyer—or so Sabina believed. The visible cameras had been taken down three months ago during a historical restoration project on the ceiling plaster, a fact Sabina was undoubtedly aware of. She had chosen her location with meticulous care.
"I have done nothing of the sort, Miss Sabina," Rosamund said, her voice remarkable in its calm stability, though her pale skin betrayed her fear. "I have no desire to argue with you. If you are hurt, let me get the first aid kit."
"Don't you dare step another inch closer to her!" Sabina’s personal assistant, who had just entered through the front door carrying shopping bags, yelled out. "I heard her threatening Miss Sabina earlier this morning! She’s been unstable for weeks!"
The trap was closing. Sabina turned her tear-streaked face toward the butler. "Call the police. Immediately. I want this woman removed from the property in handcuffs before Chadworth returns."
"No!"
A sharp, high-pitched voice echoed from the top of the stairs.
Lorelai stood at the landing, her tiny body trembling, holding Gemma tightly by the hand. The ten-year-old stepped forward, her eyes blazing with a mixture of raw fear and righteous anger.
"She’s lying!" Lorelai shouted, her voice ringing across the cavernous foyer. "Rosamund didn't throw anything! Rosamund was in our room reading us a book! We heard the glass break from our bedroom!"
Sabina’s sob instantly paused, her eyes narrowing as she glared up at the young girl. For a fraction of a second, the victim facade slipped, revealing the predatory hatred underneath.
"Lorelai, darling," Sabina said, her tone instantly shifting into a sickeningly sweet, manipulative cadence. "You were in your room. You didn't see what happened out here. You're just confused because this woman has been telling you bad things about me."
"I am not confused!" Lorelai yelled back, stepping down two stairs, placing herself protective in front of Gemma. "I saw you! You took the vase off the table before Dad left! You've been mean to us every time Dad goes away, and now you're lying about Rosamund!"
In the security bunker, Chadworth stood up from his chair. Tears were streaming down his face unabated. His ten-year-old daughter was standing up to a manipulative predator, defending the woman who had quietly kept her safe, while he sat in a dark room watching through glass.
"Marcus," Chadworth said, his voice shaking with intense emotion. "I can't sit here anymore. I’m going out there."
"Sir, wait," Marcus urged, placing a respectful, firm hand on Chadworth's arm. "Look at Sabina. She’s about to make her fatal mistake. Let her commit fully. If you walk out now, her lawyers will claim you coerced the situation. Let her make the call to the police. Let her file a false report on camera."
Chadworth bit his lip, his chest aching, but he forced himself to sit back down. "Thirty seconds, Marcus. That is all I give this."
On the monitor, Sabina turned back to the butler, her voice turning cold and demanding. "Call the police right now, Arthur. And call Chadworth’s personal lawyer. Tell them an unhinged employee assaulted the future lady of the house and tried to manipulate the children into covering for her."
"Yes, Miss Sabina," the butler said, pulling his phone from his pocket, clearly rattled by the chaos.
Sabina pushed herself up off the floor, using a silk handkerchief to dab at her bloody palm. She walked toward the bottom of the staircase, looking up at Rosamund with a triumphant, malicious smile that the staff behind her couldn't see.
"Your little crusade is over, Rosamund," Sabina whispered, low enough that only Rosamund and the ceiling microphones could catch it. "You’re going to jail. And once you're locked away, those two little spoiled orphans won't have anyone left to save them from me."
Rosamund stood on the stairs, looking down at Sabina not with fear, but with profound, terrifying pity.
"You think you've won, Sabina," Rosamund said quietly. "But you don't understand what real love is. A home built on lies always collapses. It's just a matter of time."
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"My time is right now," Sabina sneered.
Suddenly, the heavy mahogany double doors at the main entrance of the mansion didn't just open—they were thrown wide with a violent, resounding crash that echoed like thunder through the vaulted foyer.
