Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WHO CLEANED MY HOUSE
Elena Morales had worked in my home for fourteen months.
I knew she arrived before sunrise.
I knew she made my mother's favorite lemon tea.
I knew she always wore her dark hair in a neat braid and apologized whenever Mia accidentally left toys in the hallway.
That was almost everything I knew.
I had never asked what she did before becoming a housekeeper.
I had never asked why a woman who spoke three languages and handled my mother's complicated care instructions with remarkable precision worked double shifts cleaning floors.
And until Mia pulled me toward Isabella's bedroom, I had never noticed how carefully Elena watched every doorway.
When I entered the servants' sitting room, Elena stood so quickly her chair scraped the floor.
"Mr. Duca."
"Please sit."
She remained standing.
Mia hid behind her mother's skirt.
I crouched.
"Hello, little detective."
Mia peeked out.
"Did you find Grandma Bella?"
The nickname struck me.
Grandma Bella.
My mother had allowed very few people close since her stroke.
Apparently, she had allowed Mia.
"Yes, sweetheart."
Mia looked at Elena.
"See? Uncle Lorenzo listened."
Elena's eyes filled.
I stood.
"Elena, I heard what Vivien said."
Her face drained.
"Sir, I—"
"You aren't in trouble."
She looked at me as though the words were spoken in another language.
"I should have told you sooner."
"Maybe. But I should have made it possible for you to tell me safely."
She swallowed.
"I tried."
My chest tightened.
"When?"
"Three times."
I stared.
"The first time, I left a note with your assistant. The second, I requested a private meeting. The third..."
She looked down.
"The third time, Vivien showed me a photograph of Mia leaving preschool."
I felt something dark move through me.
"What happened to the notes?"
"I don't know."
"Who handled the meeting request?"
"Mr. Salerno."
I went still.
"Victor Salerno?"
Elena nodded.
"He told me he was your financial adviser."
I stared.
Victor had not worked for me in seven years.
Someone had given him access to my household.
Someone had allowed him to intercept messages meant for me.
Elena's voice trembled.
"Miss Vivien said she could make people believe I was stealing from your mother."
"Did she accuse you?"
"Not yet."
"Did she threaten Mia before today?"
Elena nodded.
"Twice."
I looked toward the little girl.
She was sitting on the carpet, carefully arranging wooden blocks by color.
I lowered my voice.
"Why didn't you leave?"
Elena's eyes filled.
"Because your mother begged me not to."
I stared.
"She can speak?"
"Sometimes. A few words."
My throat tightened.
"What did she say?"
Elena looked at me.
"'Don't leave me.'"
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
My mother had been asking for help.
And I hadn't heard her.
Elena continued.
"She knows something, Mr. Duca. Something Vivien is terrified she'll tell you."
"What?"
Elena hesitated.
Then whispered:
"Your mother saw a man die."
I stared.
"Who?"
She looked toward the door.
May you like
Then said:
"Your father."
