Chapter 3 - Maya Uses Quick Thinking To Deflect Suspicious Questions
Maya slowly stepped back from the opening, keeping her body positioned at an angle to block Celeste’s direct line of sight into the tiny concrete recess.
“I was only trying to see if the draft was coming from the old ventilation shaft,” Maya improvised, her voice trembling just enough to sound convincingly panicked.
Celeste tilted her head, her expression unreadable as she cast a sidelong glance toward the dark gap behind the ruined oil painting.
“The west wing has been sealed off for months, Maya, and the staff manuals explicitly state that wandering here during a fundraiser is grounds for immediate termination,” Celeste reminded her.
“I apologize, Mrs. Hawthorne; I will return to the ballroom service station right away,” Maya said, dipping her head submissively.
Celeste did not move. Instead, she reached out with a manicured hand, her long fingers brushing lightly against Maya’s sleeve.
“You’ve always been such a diligent worker, Maya, ever since Evelyn passed away,” Celeste whispered, her eyes searching Maya’s face for any sign of betrayal.
Maya forced herself not to flinch under the touch, remembering Evelyn’s final warning from three years earlier with terrifying clarity.
“Evelyn always spoke highly of your attention to detail,” Celeste continued, though her smile didn't reach her cold, calculating eyes.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Maya murmured, her muscles coiled tightly like a spring ready to snap.
Celeste finally withdrew her hand, taking a half-step back while maintaining her unyielding gaze on the terrified maid.
“Go down to the kitchen and assist with the dessert service, Maya; I will handle the maintenance inspection here myself,” Celeste ordered smoothly.
May you like
Maya knew that leaving meant abandoning Noah to a monster, but staying meant instant discovery and immediate silencing.
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