Chapter 1 - The Blink of Red Glass

The grand foyer felt cavernous, cold, and suffocating. Little Julian clung fiercely to Sarah’s neck, his small body trembling against her starched maid uniform. Tears carved clean streaks through the dust on his pale cheeks, but his eyes were wide and frantic. Above them on the curving staircase stood Eleanor, radiant and lethal in rose-gold sequins, her crimson-painted lips curled into a snarl of indignation.
""Get your hands off my stepson,"" Eleanor hissed, descending the final steps with calculated grace. ""You reckless, incompetent girl. You let him fall! Arthur, call the police right now! She could have broken his neck!""
In the shadow of the mahogany double doors, Arthur Vance—billionaire real estate tycoon and Julian’s father—stood motionless. His dark eyes darted between his weeping son and his furious wife.
""No, sir, please!"" Sarah pleaded, holding Julian closer as the boy buried his face into her shoulder. ""He didn't slip! Master Julian said—""
""She pushed me!"" Julian sobbed, his muffled voice ringing against the towering marble pillars. He pointed an accusatory, trembling finger past Sarah, straight toward the top landing where Eleanor had stood just seconds before. ""She shoved me from behind!""
Eleanor gasped in theatrical horror, bringing a manicured hand to her chest. ""How dare you turn my own boy’s confusion against me! Arthur, are you going to stand there while a servant slanders me?""
Sarah’s heart thudded against her ribs like a trapped bird. She knew the power dynamic in this house. She was replaceable staff; Eleanor was the newly crowned mistress of the estate. But Sarah’s gaze suddenly flicked upward toward the intricate plaster molding beneath the crystal chandelier.
There, half-hidden behind a decorative acanthus leaf, was a tiny black dome with a faint, blinking red dot.
""Check the camera,"" Sarah said, her voice steadying. ""Please, Mr. Vance. There's a security dome on the ceiling. Look at the tape before you throw me out.""
Arthur raised his chin, his gaze trailing Sarah’s finger upward. Eleanor’s chest hitched, just a fraction of a second, her glittering composure fracturing into naked panic.
""Arthur, don't waste time indulging her,"" Eleanor said hurriedly, stepping between him and the stairs. ""The boy needs a doctor! We'll fire her and deal with the paperwork later.""
Arthur didn't move. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled his phone from the pocket of his bespoke suit, his thumb swiping across the screen toward the estate’s security terminal.
Eleanor reached forward as if to grab his arm, her eyes wild. But before her fingers brushed his sleeve, a sharp chime echoed from the device, signalling the cloud feed had loaded.
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Arthur’s face drained of color as the footage began to buffer, but then the screen flashed a single, jarring alert: Video stream corrupted at 09:14 AM.
Sarah’s breath caught in her throat as Eleanor let out a slow, poisonous smile.