Chapter 4 — The Evidence of Innocence
Inside the room, three children sat on small, clean cots. A six-year-old girl with wide, terrified eyes was holding a bottle for an infant wrapped in a hospital blanket. A four-year-old boy was curled in the corner, clutching a faded blue cap that looked identical to the one Samuel had worn in Grace’s old photograph.
"It's okay," Grace whispered, dropping to her knees and spreading her arms wide. "It's okay, sweethearts. I'm a mommy. I'm going to take you out of here."
The six-year-old girl looked at Grace’s maid uniform, recognition flickering in her face. "The lady with the keys said we were going to a new castle today."
"No more castles," Grace said fiercely, her tears spilling over as she gathered the infant into her arms and ushered the two older children toward the door. "We’re going to find your real moms."
"They won't get past the driveway," a cold, mocking voice spoke from the hallway.
Grace spun around. Victoria Ashford stood in the doorway, her red satin blouse glowing under the harsh fluorescent lights of the corridor. In her right hand, she held a small, silver pearl-handled revolver. Her blond hair was perfectly composed, but her eyes were wide with the manic desperation of a woman watching her empire turn to ash.
"You really are a cockroach, Grace," Victoria sneered, raising the barrel of the gun directly at Grace's chest. "You should have taken the boy and run. You could have had your pathetic little life back. But you had to dig. You had to look beneath the floorboards."
"It's over, Victoria," Grace said, stepping in front of the children, shielding them with her own body.
"I have the logs. I have your father-in-law's signed note. I have the destination accounts for the Vance and Sterling families. The FBI is going to dismantle this house stone by stone."
"The local police are upstairs right now, filling out an emergency protective order," Victoria laughed, a sharp, unhinged sound. "By the time they come down here, you'll be dead, these children will be transferred to an offshore vessel waiting in the cove, and Daniel will be heavily medicated in a private sanitarium for an 'acute emotional breakdown' brought on by your intrusion. The Whitmore name survives. It always survives."
May you like
Victoria squeezed her finger around the trigger.
Bang.
