Chapter 8 - I Returned to the Mansion Wearing a Hidden Microphone—and Eleanor Offered Me Twice My Salary
The investigators needed evidence of intimidation.
I volunteered to speak with Eleanor.
Adrian objected immediately.
"You don't owe us that risk."
He was right.
But nineteen women had been pushed away.
And Noah had been blamed for everything.
I wanted the truth recorded.
The investigator fitted a microphone beneath my collar.
Then I drove back through the gates.
Eleanor greeted me in the morning room.
She looked perfectly composed.
"Emma. I wondered when you'd return."
"I came for my things."
She poured tea into two cups.
I left mine untouched.
"You're clever," she said.
"Clever women can become wealthy here."
She slid an envelope across the table.
Inside was a contract.
Sixteen thousand dollars a month.
A generous housing allowance.
A confidentiality clause stretching twenty pages.
"And Noah?" I asked.
"My grandson needs specialized care."
"He needs people to believe him."
Her smile faded.
"Children imagine terrible things."
"Did Claire imagine the safety reports?"
Eleanor set down her cup.
The porcelain made a sharp sound.
"You should be careful with that name."
I kept my hands still.
"Was June Bellamy imagining things too?"
Eleanor looked toward the doorway.
"June made herself inconvenient."
I waited.
"Like you," she added.
The recorder captured every word.
Then Eleanor reached into a drawer.
She withdrew my mother's death certificate.
My stomach dropped.
May you like
"We know what you still owe," she said.
"Think about your future."
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