THE CRUELTY OF THE CROWD: WHY DID THEY DO THIS TO AN INNOCENT CHILD?

Panic surged through Elena’s veins like liquid fire. She slammed her fists against the heavy oak panel of the nursery door, shouting at the top of her lungs.

“Clara! Clara, can you hear me? Mommy’s back!”

From the other side of the door came the muffled, tearful voice of her daughter. “Mommy! Someone was outside the window! They tried to open it!”

Elena’s blood ran cold. Arthur wasn't just planning to keep Clara locked up; he was moving her. She scanned the hallway desperately, looking for anything she could use as a battering ram. Spotting a heavy antique wooden stool sitting near the window ledge, she rushed over and dragged it back to the nursery door.

Gripping the stool by its legs, Elena swung it with all her might against the brass lock plate. Crash! The wood splintered slightly, but the deadbolt held firm. She swung again, grunting with exertion as the gold sequins of her dress caught the dim light. Crash!

On the third strike, the metal housing of the lock sheared off the wood with a loud, tearing pop. The door flew open.

Elena rushed into the room, dropping the stool, and fell to her knees beside the bed. Clara scrambled out from underneath the frame, throwing her arms around Elena’s neck and sobbing hysterically.

“Mommy, a man looked through the glass. He had a flashlight. He tried to break the latch!” Clara cried, trembling violently.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I’m here. We’re getting out of here right now,” Elena promised, pulling Clara to her feet. She grabbed the heavy wool blanket off the bed and wrapped it around Clara’s shoulders, shielding her from the cold estate air.

Before they could reach the doorway, a shadow fell across the threshold.

Arthur Vance stood in the doorway, blocking their exit. His tailored suit was immaculate, his gray hair perfectly parted, and his expression was one of cold, calculated amusement. Behind him stood four new security guards, each holding heavy plastic zip-ties.

“Running away so soon, Elena?” Arthur asked smoothly, stepping into the room. “And here I thought we were having such a lovely family reunion.”

Elena instinctively pushed Clara behind her, spreading her arms wide to protect her daughter. She reached into her pocket, her fingers brushing against the cold steel drive containing the evidence of his crimes.

“It’s over, Arthur,” Elena said, her voice ringing clear and strong through the bedroom. “I have the financial records. The board will see everything. You’re finished.”

Arthur chuckled softly, a dry, grating sound that lacked any warmth. He slowly pulled his own smartphone from his pocket, tapping the screen once before holding it up for Elena to see.