Maya lifted the lid the rest of the way. The inside was not a velvet-lined jewelry tray. The velvet had been ripped out entirely.
Resting in the wooden belly of the box was a folded, legal-sized document sealed in a wax-stamped envelope, and a small amber glass vial filled with white powder.
Maya’s breath caught in her throat. She picked up the amber vial. There was no label, no pharmacy sticker, no dosage instructions. Just generic, unmarked glass.
Then she looked at the heavy envelope. On the front, written in Eleanor's elegant, shaky handwriting, were three words: To Marcus Vance.
A sudden, sharp sound made Maya freeze.
The heavy oak door to the suite was opening.
“Just put her in the bed,” Veronica’s voice drifted in, cold and impatient. “I don't care if she's agitated. Lock the door from the outside when you're done.”
Maya shoved the vial and the envelope deep into the pocket of her dress, right alongside the brass key. She grabbed her duffel bag and dove behind the heavy silk drapery covering the far window just as the lights in the suite snapped on.
Chapter 2: The Night Watch
Maya held her breath, flattening herself against the cold glass of the window, concealed only by the heavy silk drapes.
Through the narrow slit in the fabric, she watched a burly male nurse in white scrubs push Eleanor’s wheelchair into the room. Veronica trailed behind, her sequined dress catching the stark overhead light.
"I'm perfectly fine sitting up, Veronica," Eleanor said, her voice stronger in private than it had been in the ballroom, though it still wavered with exhaustion.
"You humiliated me down there," Veronica snapped, crossing her arms. "I'm throwing a gala to secure the board's confidence in this family, and you look like a fragile little bird ready to drop dead. I told you to stay quiet."
"You told me to sign over the conservatorship," Eleanor retorted, gripping her armrests. "And when I refused, you raised your hand to me. The board won't like that, will they?"
Veronica’s eyes flashed with a sudden, vicious rage. She took a step toward the wheelchair. "That little maid won't be around to block for you tomorrow morning, Mother. Dr. Aris will be here at eight A.M. He’s signing the incapacity declaration. By noon, I'll have full medical and financial control of this estate. Now, give her the nighttime drops."
Veronica looked at the male nurse. He nodded, pulling a small plastic dropper from his pocket.
"I don't want it," Eleanor said, panic finally bleeding into her voice as she pressed herself back into the chair. "It makes the room spin."
"That means it’s working," Veronica sneered. She turned and walked out of the room, her heels clicking like gunshots on the hardwood. "Administer it and lock the door."
Maya dug her fingernails into her own palms to stop herself from lunging out from behind the curtain. She watched, helpless, as the burly nurse pried Eleanor’s jaw open and squeezed three drops of a clear liquid under the old woman's tongue. Eleanor gagged, tears spilling down her wrinkled cheeks.
The nurse wiped Eleanor's chin with a careless swipe of a towel, hauled her up by her armpits, and dumped her unceremoniously onto the mattress. He didn't even bother to pull the covers up. He turned out the lights and walked out.
The heavy door closed. The deadbolt clicked into place with a sickening thud.
Silence descended on the dark room, broken only by Eleanor's shallow, ragged breathing.
Maya waited a full two minutes to ensure the hallway was clear. Then she stepped out from behind the drape.