Chapter 2 - The Echo of a Slammed Door
Evander stood at the edge of the hallway.
His shoulders were rigid.
His hands remained closed into fists inside his wool pockets.
The door to his mother's room stood wide open.
Light spilled across the dark hardwood floor.
Inside, the maid was on her knees.
She looked small against the heavy mahogany trim.
Her fingers held the edge of Anora's sleeve.
Anora was still rocking.
Her breath came in ragged, uneven gasps.
Evander stared down at the girl.
He had seen her twice since she arrived.
She had seemed like nothing.
Just another face in the endless turnover of staff.
Just another Reed from the employment registry.
Now her true name echoed in his ears.
Hollis.
The name alone brought back the smell of burning gasoline and wet asphalt.
It brought back the rain of four years ago.
Winifred stood just behind Evander's right shoulder.
She held a folded sheet of paper.
It was the employment application.
The signature at the bottom was cramped and hurried.
"She lied on her intake form, Mr. Rallo," Winifred whispered.
Her voice was dry as old parchment.
"She used her mother's maiden name. Reed."
Evander did not blink.
His gaze locked onto Tamson's face.
He saw the wet streaks across her cheeks.
He saw the way she positioned her body to shield Anora.
It was a defensive posture.
It was the stance of someone ready for violence.
"Get out," Evander said.
His voice was barely above a murmur.
It carried the cold weight of absolute law.
Tamson did not move immediately.
She looked down at the gold locket in Anora's palm.
The twisted copper wire gleamed under the brass lamp.
It was the wire Abel Hollis had wrapped around the clasp.
Evander recognized the repair.
He had seen Abel fix toys for the neighborhood kids with that exact wire.
A cold prickle moved down Evander's spine.
He pushed the feeling down instantly.
Sentiment was a weakness.
Weakness invited bullets.
"Did you hear me, Hollis?" Evander stepped forward.
The floorboards groaned beneath his shoes.
Anora let out a sharp, piercing shriek.
Her hands flew up to protect her head.
Her fingers clawed at the air between her son and the maid.
"No!" Anora screamed. "Don't! Leave her!"
Evander froze mid-stride.
For four years, any sudden movement from him had triggered that scream.
Yet this time, the scream was directed at him.
To protect the daughter of the man who had ruined his mother's mind.
The irony tasted like copper and ash in his mouth.
Tamson looked up then.
Her eyes were not frightened.
They were burning with a cold, terrifying clarity.
She stood up slowly, keeping one hand near Anora.
"I'm leaving," Tamson said. Her voice did not shake.
"You don't have to throw me out."
She reached into her apron pocket.
Her fingers brushed against something folded.
It was the photograph she had taken from his private cabinet.
She almost pulled it out.
She almost threw the signed statement right into his face.
She almost told him that her father was innocent.
Then she looked at Anora's trembling shoulders.
If she started a war in this hallway tonight, the old woman would be crushed in the crossfire.
Tamson stepped backward toward the door.
"Keep your house, Mr. Rallo," she whispered.
"You'll be hearing from me soon enough."
She brushed past him in the narrow doorway.
The scent of floor wax and rain lingered in the air.
Evander watched her walk down the hall.
He did not stop her.
He could have had his guards at the gate block her exit within ten seconds.
He could have had her bag searched.
He could have found the photograph.
Instead, something stayed his hand.
It was the memory of his mother holding the maid's sleeve.
It was the look in those burning brown eyes.
"Winifred," Evander said without turning around.
"Mr. Rallo?"
"Find out everything about her last four years."
"Sir?"
"Every job. Every landlord. Every clinic."
Evander turned his head slowly.
His eyes were shadowed by the overhead sconce.
"Find out who made her life a misery before she walked through my gates."
Winifred nodded and disappeared down the stairs.
Evander stood alone in the doorway.
Anora had quieted down.
She was clutching the gold locket to her chest.
She looked up at her son with empty, haunted eyes.
"Go away," Anora murmured.
May you like
Evander closed the door softly.
The click of the latch sounded like a gunshot in the empty corridor.
