Chapter 4 - The Threat in the Shadows
Sarah reacted on pure instinct, ducking behind the heavy velvet drapes that framed the tall stained-glass window just feet from the library entrance. She pressed herself flat against the cold pane, holding her breath until her lungs burned.
Eleanor stormed out into the hallway, her rose-gold sequins catching the faint ambient light. She wasn't weeping anymore; her face was a mask of cold, concentrated rage. She pulled out a small gold compact, checked her reflection, and then tapped a number on her phone, putting it to her ear.
""It’s me,"" Eleanor murmured in a hushed, dangerous whisper as she paced directly in front of the curtain. ""Arthur is getting suspicious. He’s calling his IT specialists to run a recovery on the security hub.""
She paused, listening to whoever was on the other end. Sarah’s fingers dug into the fabric of her skirt, trying to stifle the trembling in her limbs.
""I pulled the local drive,"" Eleanor continued, irritation threading through her voice. ""The backup cache from the foyer camera is on it. But I can't find it in my clutch. I must have dropped it when that little brat tumbled down the stairs.""
A chill washed down Sarah’s spine. The flash drive in her pocket felt like a burning coal.
""If anyone finds that drive before I do, we're finished, Marcus,"" Eleanor hissed into the phone. ""It doesn't just show the kid falling. It has the footage from the study earlier this morning. It shows me swapping Clara’s trust documents into Arthur’s portfolio. Get over here right now. If the maid has it, make sure she doesn't make it to the police.""
Eleanor clicked off the phone and strode down the hall toward the kitchen, her high heels clicking aggressively against the polished floorboards.
Sarah emerged from behind the curtains, her chest heaving. The stakes were far worse than she could have ever imagined. Eleanor wasn't just an abusive stepmother; she was systematically defrauding the Vance estate, and Clara’s death was looking less like an accident with every passing second.
Sarah needed a computer that wasn't connected to the estate's monitored network. Her old laptop in the servants' basement quarters was her only option.
She hurried down the dark stone stairs to the basement, locking the reinforced door behind her. She booted up her battered laptop, her hands shaking as she plugged the silver drive into the USB port.
A single encrypted folder appeared on the screen, labeled VANCE_SYS_LOG_09.
Sarah entered Julian’s birthday—a desperate, intuitive guess based on the dates Eleanor frequently used for household codes. To her astonishment, the folder popped open.
Inside were two video files and a PDF scan. Sarah clicked the earliest video, dated 8:45 AM.
The screen flickered to life, showing Arthur’s private study. Eleanor was standing before the open safe, holding a sheaf of yellowed parchment. Beside her stood Marcus Thorne—Arthur’s chief legal advisor and Clara’s former attorney.
Sarah’s eyes widened in horror at what the audio picked up through the laptop speakers.
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""Clara’s will explicitly leaves seventy percent of the holding company directly to Julian upon his eighteenth birthday,"" Marcus’s voice rasped from the speakers. ""Unless Julian is declared mentally unfit before then... or suffers an untimely demise.""
Before Sarah could process the horrific words, the power in the basement suddenly cut out, plunging the room into total, suffocating darkness.
