Chapter 2 - The Mask Slips
"Pick her up, Mark," Elise urged, her voice adopting an airy, practiced warmth that chilled him to his core. She took a tentative step toward Lily with her manicured hands outstretched. "Look at her, she’s confused. Darling, tell Daddy we were just rehearsing for your school animal play! Tell him how silly we were being."
Lily shrank back instantly, her small shoulder blades digging against the base of the refrigerator. She looked up at Elise with wide, petrified eyes and nodded mechanically. "S-silly," she repeated, a robot parroting a command. "We were playing."
"Don't you dare touch her," Mark snarled, stepping directly between Elise and his daughter.
He reached down, gently scooping Lily into his arms. She weighed almost nothing. She was so feather-light that Mark felt a sudden, sickening jolt through his chest. He held her against his chest, feeling the frantic, hummingbird flutter of her heart through her stained shirt. Her skin was ice-cold.
"Mark, you are overreacting," Elise said, shifting her weight. The panic in her eyes was hardening into something colder, more calculating. "You fly home unannounced, barge in here throwing accusations around, and scare our child half to death. I have been taking care of her every single day while you chase contracts across the country!"
"Taking care of her?" Mark looked down at the stainless-steel bowl. He kicked it. It skittered across the floor, ringing loudly against the baseboards, spilling greasy scraps of chicken bones and dry dog pellets across the white grout. "You were feeding her literal garbage, Elise! Look at her! She’s trembling!"
"She refused to eat her dinner!" Elise hissed, dropping the soft façade as her temper flared. "She threw a tantrum! Threw her plate on the floor! She said she wanted to act like an animal, so I taught her a lesson about gratitude! It was tough love, Mark! Modern parenting! You coddle her because Sarah died, and now she's completely undisciplined!"
Hearing his late wife’s name come out of Elise’s mouth was like a splash of acid to his face.
Before Mark could speak, Rosa dropped the envelope in her hands. It hit the floor, spilling three neat stacks of hundred-dollar bills wrapped in bank bands.
Elise's eyes flared with pure malice. "Rosa! Pick that up and get out!"
"No," Rosa said, her voice shaking but resolute. She stepped out into the middle of the kitchen, wiping her tear-stained cheeks. "No more. I cannot do this anymore, Mr. Vance."
"Rosa, what is that money?" Mark asked, holding Lily tightly with one arm while keeping his eyes locked on the housekeeper.
"She paid me," Rosa sobbed, pointing a trembling finger at Elise. "Every week you were away in Boston, in New York, in Dallas... she gave me two thousand dollars in cash. To stay in my room after four o'clock. To keep my mouth shut. To clean up the cellar when she locked Lily down there so her cries wouldn't bother the neighbors."
Mark’s breath caught in his throat. His knees nearly buckled. "The cellar?"
"She's lying!" Elise screamed, lunging toward Rosa. "She’s a thieving maid trying to cover her tracks! I fired her this morning for stealing from your safe, Mark! She took that cash from your office safe, and now she’s inventing stories to destroy us!"
"I took nothing from the safe!" Rosa yelled back, pulling her phone from her apron pocket. "I have the text messages, Mr. Vance! She threatened to have my son deported if I told you! She said you would never believe a maid over your beautiful wife!"
Mark looked at Elise. The woman he had met at a charity gala nine months after Sarah’s funeral. The woman who had sworn she loved Lily like her own flesh and blood. Now, standing under the recessed LEDs, with dark wine stains drying across her burgundy gown, she didn't look like a mother. She looked like a predator cornered in her own snare.
"Daddy," Lily whimpered into Mark’s neck, her tiny fingers clutching the lapel of his suit. "My tummy hurts. It’s been hurting since yesterday."
Mark didn't look at Elise again. He didn't scream. A terrifying, cold clarity settled into his veins.
"Get your coat, Rosa," Mark commanded in a voice as flat and lethal as an executioner's blade.
"Mark! Where are you going?" Elise shouted, grabbing his arm.
Mark violently ripped his arm away, glaring at her with such raw hatred that she stumbled backward, catching herself on the island counter.
"If you come within ten feet of me or my daughter," Mark said, his tone chillingly level, "I will not wait for the police to take care of you. We are going to the hospital. And when I return, your things will be on the curb, or you will be in handcuffs. Pray it's the first one."
May you like
He walked out the door into the cool night air, Rosa trailing closely behind him, leaving Elise alone in the grand, empty kitchen surrounded by shattered glass and dog food.
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