Chapter 1 - The Spilled Puddle
Elena Vance gripped the edge of the carved mahogany dresser, her knuckles turning bone-white against the polished wood. Her red silk robe whispered against the tiled floor of the grand nursery, a sharp contrast to the chaotic knot of panic tightening in her chest.
She stared down at the white puddle spreading across the immaculate white tiles, her dark wavy hair framing a face contorted by sudden, violent fury.
"What are you doing?!" Elena shouted, her voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings of the mansion.
Clara, the blonde maid in the crisp black-and-white uniform, cowered backward, her eyes wide with terror as she dropped the heavy glass bottle.
"That is my baby's milk!" Elena gasped, her manicured hand flying to clutch at her own throat in absolute disbelief.
Clara slumped onto the cold floor, trembling uncontrollably as tears spilled over her cheeks. She pointed a shaking finger at the widening pool of white liquid, desperate to justify the catastrophic accident.
"I was protecting your son!" Clara cried, her voice cracking with a raw, genuine fear that made Elena’s breath hitch.
Before Elena could demand an explanation for the bizarre claim, a soft, heavy sound drew her attention toward the arched entryway. Elena spun around abruptly, her silk robe flaring around her ankles, her eyes locking onto the figure standing in the doorway.
Clara Vance, Elena’s younger sister, stood frozen in her pristine ivory blazer. Her expression was a mask of utter devastation, tears already tracking silently down her pale cheeks.
Elena stared at her sister, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
"Sister, did you make the milk today?" Elena demanded, the accusation hanging heavily in the chilled air.
Clara did not answer immediately. She stood in the doorway, staring at the spilled bottle with an intensity that bordered on horror. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, until Clara finally met Elena’s fierce gaze.
May you like
She opened her mouth, trembling, but the words refused to come out. Instead, she pointed a shaking hand toward the hallway closet.
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