Chapter 4 - THE POISONED TEA
"You always did have a habit of cleaning where you don't belong, Maria," Victoria said, her voice smooth, dangerously calm. She stepped out of the shadows, the heels of her designer boots clicking sharply against the bare wood of the attic floor.
Maria quickly pushed the bin behind her, trying to keep her breathing steady. "Mrs. Sterling. I was... I was looking for Emma's old winter blankets. She was cold tonight."
"Don't lie to me," Victoria hissed, the elegant facade she usually wore dropping completely. Her face was twisted into a mask of pure malice. "You're searching through my things. You think because Arthur gave you some pathetic little title tonight that you actually have power in this house? You are nothing but a glorified cleaning lady. And you are standing in the way of what belongs to me."
"Helena’s death wasn't natural, was it?" Maria asked, her voice trembling but her eyes remaining locked on Victoria. "You poisoned her. You were her assistant, you managed her food, you managed her medication... and then you married her husband before her grave was even cold."
Victoria let out a soft, chilling laugh. "Do you think anyone would believe you? A maid with a grudge? You have no proof. That letter is nothing but the rambling of a doctor who couldn't accept his own failure to save a patient. If you bring that to Arthur, I will simply tell him you planted it to ruin my marriage. And who do you think he will believe? His wife, or a servant who is desperate to keep her job?"
"He will believe the truth," Maria said, her hand reaching into her apron pocket where her cell phone lay. She had quietly hit the record button the moment she heard the floorboard creak.
Victoria noticed the movement. Her eyes narrowed. "You think you're clever, don't you?"
Before Maria could react, Victoria lunged forward. But she didn't grab for the phone. Instead, she grabbed a heavy, antique brass candlestick from a nearby table and swung it.
The metal struck Maria across the temple with a dull, sickening crack.
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The flashlight dropped from Maria's hand, rolling across the floor as she collapsed onto the dusty wood, her vision fracturing into dark, disjointed pieces. Through the haze, she saw Victoria pick up the manila envelope, tuck it under her arm, and look down at her with cold indifference.
"You should have taken the dismissal, Maria," Victoria whispered. "It would have been much less painful."
