Chapter 2 - The Child in the Kitchen
“Elena,” I called again. “Is your daughter here tonight?”
Elena’s hands tightened around the folded towels.
“Yes, sir.”
“Bring her to me.”
Vanessa turned sharply. “Adrian, that is completely inappropriate.”
I looked at her. “I did not ask for your opinion.”
For the first time that night, Vanessa’s flawless expression cracked.
Elena hesitated near the doorway. “Lily is asleep in the staff room.”
“Wake her.”
“No,” Vanessa said. “The child has no business coming into a sick man’s bedroom.”
My body shivered beneath the blankets, but something inside me had gone painfully clear.
“Bring her,” I repeated.
Elena left without another word.
Dr. Harris watched me from beside the fireplace. He had known me long enough to recognize the voice I used when a decision had already been made.
Vanessa moved closer to my bed. “You’re exhausted. You’re feverish. You’re letting paranoia affect your judgment.”
“Am I?”
“You think a cleaning woman and her child are the answer to whatever is happening to you?”
“No.” I held her gaze. “But I think you are very interested in making sure I do not ask questions.”
Her face went still.
Then the bedroom door opened again.
Elena entered holding Lily’s hand.
The girl wore oversized pajama pants, an old Cubs T-shirt, and a faded baseball cap that nearly covered her dark curls. She looked frightened by the machines, the IV lines, and the armed men stationed quietly outside my doors.
But when she saw me, she did not look away.
That was what hit me hardest.
Most adults could not meet my eyes for more than three seconds.
Lily did.
She stared at me with the wary seriousness of a child who had learned too early that rooms could turn dangerous without warning.
“Come closer,” I said.
Elena swallowed. “Sir, she’s tired. Maybe tomorrow—”
“Please, Mama,” Lily whispered.
Elena looked down at her daughter.
Then she guided her toward the bed.
Lily stopped several feet away.
“You’re sick,” she said.
“That seems to be the general opinion.”
Her brow furrowed. “Are you going to die?”
Vanessa inhaled sharply. “Lily.”
But I raised a hand.
“It’s all right.”
The child waited for my answer.
“I don’t know,” I said.
Lily nodded slowly, as if this were reasonable.
“My grandma died when I was little,” she said. “Mommy said dying means people love you from somewhere you can’t see.”
Elena’s eyes filled with tears.
Vanessa looked annoyed.
I watched Lily closely.
“What else does your mommy say?”
“That we should be brave when we’re scared.”
“That sounds smart.”
“She is smart.” Lily glanced at Elena. “But she cries when she thinks I’m asleep.”
Elena’s face went pale.
“Lily,” she whispered.
“It’s okay,” the girl said. “Everybody cries sometimes.”
I could not remember the last time anyone had said something so simple in my house.
Then Lily reached into her pocket and pulled out a small object.
A plastic bracelet made of red, blue, and yellow beads.
“I made this,” she said. “For when people are sick.”
I looked at it.
Vanessa laughed quietly. “That is sweet, but Adrian cannot wear children’s jewelry.”
The room became cold in a way that had nothing to do with my illness.
Lily’s hand dropped.
I reached for the bracelet.
My fingers were trembling badly, and I hated that she saw it. But Lily did not flinch. She stepped forward and wrapped the bracelet around my wrist herself.
“There,” she said. “Now you can get better.”
My throat tightened.
Then Dr. Harris spoke.
“Mr. Romano,” he said carefully, “I need to ask you something. Who has access to your food, drinks, medication, and IV lines?”
“Everyone in this house,” Vanessa said quickly. “Staff, nurses, physicians.”
Dr. Harris ignored her.
I looked at Elena.
She looked terrified.
“Tell me the truth,” I said.
Elena shook her head. “I don’t know anything.”
“Did you see something?”
Vanessa stepped forward. “This is absurd. She has been here three weeks.”
Elena’s eyes flickered toward Vanessa.
Just once.
But I saw it.
So did Dr. Harris.
I pushed myself higher against the pillows, fighting the weakness dragging at my body.
“Elena,” I said quietly, “you and your daughter are safe if you tell me the truth.”
Her lips parted.
No words came.
Then Lily tugged on her mother’s hand.
“Mama,” she whispered, “tell him about the pretty lady and the cup.”
The room went silent.
Vanessa’s face drained of color.
I looked at my fiancée.
“The cup?”
Elena began crying.
“I didn’t know what it was,” she said. “I was cleaning the sitting room two nights ago. Miss Vale was pouring something from a little bottle into your tea. She saw me and told me it was medicine.”
Vanessa laughed, but it sounded thin.
“She is lying.”
Elena’s shoulders shook. “I wasn’t going to say anything. I need this job. Lily needs this job. But then I heard Dr. Harris say someone might be poisoning you.”
Vanessa turned toward the door.
My security chief, Dominic, stepped inside before she reached it.
“Going somewhere?” I asked.
Vanessa looked back at me.
The woman I had planned to marry in six weeks stared at me with eyes I no longer recognized.
Then she smiled.
Not warmly.
Not lovingly.
Coldly.
May you like
“You should have died before you started asking questions.”
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