Chapter 5 - Shadows in the Manor
Northridge Manor was quiet at two o'clock in the morning. The storm outside had softened into a steady, rhythmic drizzle that tapped gently against the tall leaded glass windows.
In the west wing guest suite, Emily lay awake on a plush king-sized bed wrapped in Egyptian cotton sheets. Despite the breathtaking luxury of the room—the marble fireplace, the soft velvet armchairs, the warm ambient lamps—she couldn't sleep. Her life had shifted too fast, moving from the filthy dish pit of a café to a palace in less than twelve hours.
She sat up, tossing the covers aside. She was wearing a soft set of silk pajamas provided by the house staff.
Feeling thirsty, Emily decided to slip down to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. She opened her heavy oak bedroom door and stepped into the long, dimly lit carpeted hallway.
The manor was silent, illuminated only by small brass nightlights along the baseboards.
As Emily walked quietly down the grand staircase toward the lower main wing, she noticed a faint sliver of light coming from the private medical study—the room where Dr. Evans kept Eleanor’s backup insulin supplies and monitoring equipment.
Emily paused. She remembered Arthur saying that Dr. Evans had left the manor at midnight to fetch additional specialized medicine from the central hospital. The medical study was supposed to be locked.
Curiosity and a sudden prickle of anxiety took over. Emily crept closer, her bare feet silent on the thick Persian rug.
Through the two-inch crack in the study door, she saw a shadow moving.
It wasn't Dr. Evans. It was a man wearing a dark blue servant’s uniform—a house butler named Thomas, whom Emily had briefly seen earlier during dinner.
Thomas was standing over the glass medical cabinet, which had been unlocked. In his gloved hands, he held a small medical syringe and a clear glass vial labeled Humalog - Rapid Acting Insulin. Using a fine needle, Thomas was carefully injecting a dark, amber liquid into the rubber seal of Eleanor’s primary insulin vials!
Emily’s blood ran ice-cold.
Her mother had died from a metabolic shock. She had spent years reading about insulin safety and diabetes care. The amber liquid Thomas was injecting into the vial was clearly a lethal chemical compound—likely potassium chloride or a heavy nerve toxin designed to trigger immediate cardiac arrest when injected!
Thomas was trying to murder Eleanor in her sleep!
Emily’s heart pounded violently against her ribs. She looked around the hallway for something to defend herself with or a way to raise the alarm, but the house security intercom was on the far wall, twenty feet away.
Suddenly, Emily’s foot brushed against a small decorative wooden pedestal holding a brass vase.
Squeak.
The tiny sound echoed like a gunshot in the silent hallway.
Inside the study, Thomas froze. He snapped his head toward the door, his eyes wide with dark, frantic panic.
"Who’s there?!" Thomas hissed, dropping the empty syringe onto the table.
Emily didn't hesitate. She knew she couldn't outrun a grown man in the long hallways. She slammed her hand against the heavy brass door, shoving it open with all her weight!
BANG!
The door hit Thomas squarely in the face, knocking him backward into the glass medical cabinet. The glass shattered with a loud, violent crash, sending vials and instruments scattering across the hardwood floor!
"Guards! Help! Murder!" Emily screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing through the vast rafters of the manor!
Thomas snarled like a wild animal, wiping blood from his broken nose. He lunged across the broken glass, grabbing Emily by her throat, shoving her hard against the wall!
"Shut up, you little rat!" Thomas growled, his fingers tightening around her windpipe. "You were supposed to be asleep!"
Emily choked for air, her vision spotting with black dots. But she didn't give up. Raising her right foot, she stomped down with all her force onto Thomas’s bare instep, while simultaneously smashing her elbow into his bruised face!
Thomas let out a howl of pain, loosening his grip for a split second.
Emily broke free, grabbing a heavy silver desk lamp from the table and swinging it with all her strength!
CLANG!
The heavy silver base caught Thomas right across the temple. The traitorous butler stumbled sideways, his eyes rolling back into his head, before he crashed unconscious onto the floor amidst the broken glass and spilled chemicals.
Seconds later, heavy footsteps thundered down the hallway.
Arthur and three armed private security officers burst into the study, weapons drawn, followed closely by Eleanor, who was wrapped in a black velvet robe.
They took in the scene in a single second: the shattered glass, the contaminated insulin vials, the unconscious butler on the floor, and Emily standing over him, breathless, bruised, but holding the heavy silver lamp like a shield.
Arthur dropped to his knees beside the unconscious man, checking the spilled vials and the syringe. His face went corpse-pale.
"Potassium cyanide compound," Arthur whispered, looking up at Eleanor with utter terror. "If you had taken your morning insulin dose... your heart would have stopped in under three minutes."
Eleanor stared at the poisoned vials, then looked at Emily, who was shivering against the wall, gasping for breath.
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Eleanor walked over, pulling the brave girl into a tight, fierce embrace.
"They tried to take my life twice in twenty-four hours," Eleanor whispered, her voice dark with terrifying resolve. "Arthur... call the High Commissioner of Police. It’s time to destroy Richard Vance once and for all."
