Chapter 3 - 11:43 PMAt first, I thought I was hallucinating from exhaustion. Vivienne moved carefully, barefoot, hair tied back, wearing latex gloves. She carried a silver tray: warm milk, a folded napkin, and a syringe filled with clear liquid.
My blood turned cold, but my hands stayed steady.
She whispered, “Poor little prince. Just drink this, and Aunt Viv will save you from your crazy mother.”
Noah stirred. “Aunt Viv?”
“Yes, sweetheart.” Her voice was honey over poison. “Mommy’s medicine makes you scared. This will help.”
From the chair, Maya’s eyes opened.
She did not scream. She did not lunge. She reached slowly beneath her sweater and pressed something.
Later, I would learn it was a cheap emergency recorder she carried because, as she told me, “When people already think you’re guilty, you document everything.”
Vivienne lifted the glass to Noah’s lips.
Maya stood.
“Put it down.”
Vivienne froze, then turned with a smile so ugly it barely looked human. “You shouldn’t be awake.”
“No,” Maya said. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Vivienne stepped closer. “Do you know what happens if I call the police? Ex-convict nanny. Drugged child. Rich widow hysterical. Who do you think they’ll believe?”
Maya looked at the camera in the corner.
For one second, Vivienne’s face changed.
Then she laughed.
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“You think Clara is watching? Clara trusts no one. That’s why she’ll end up alone.”
I was already moving.
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