Chapter 7 - The Nanny’s Silence
Elena’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. The dark green dress she wore felt suddenly restrictive, cutting off her air as every pair of eyes in the study locked onto her. The baby in the wrap sling began to whimper, sensing the terrifying shift in energy in the room.
"Nanny," Detective Miller said, stepping toward her with a softer, more measured tone. "What did you see? You can speak freely. You are protected under state law."
Elena swallowed hard, her mouth entirely dry. She looked at Julian, whose face bore a subtle, chilling expression of warning. Julian didn't need to threaten her out loud; the sheer power of the Vance family was enough to make anyone disappear permanently, badge or no badge. But she also looked at Clara, whose tear-stained face was etched with raw desperation.
"I... I didn't see anything, Officer," Elena whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "I was just taking care of the baby. The master and mistress were arguing, like they always do. I don't know anything about poison."
Julian’s smile widened just a fraction. He knew he had won this round.
Detective Miller narrowed his eyes, clearly sensing the profound fear radiating from the young nanny. "Are you sure about that, Ms. Rodriguez? Because harboring information in a homicide investigation is a felony. If someone threatened you—"
"No one threatened me," Elena interrupted quickly, casting a terrified glance at Julian. "I just want to do my job and take care of the child."
Clara stared at Elena in disbelief. "Are you insane? He's framing you! He's going to pin his uncle's murder on you and me both if you don't tell them the truth!"
"That's enough, Mrs. Vance!" Detective Miller snapped, turning his attention back to Clara. He signaled to the female officer standing near the doorway. "Clara Vance, you are also being detained for obstruction of justice and suspected conspiracy in the poisoning of Julian Vance. Cuff her."
Clara screamed as the cold metal bracelets were slapped onto her wrists, her burgundy pantsuit wrinkling as she was roughly pulled away from the desk. The American flag on the wood-paneled wall seemed to mock her, its stars and stripes standing as a silent testament to the corrupt empire she had fought so hard to be a part of.
As the officers led Clara and Julian toward the front entrance in handcuffs, Julian paused at the doorway. He turned his head back toward the study, looking directly at Elena.
"Good girl," Julian whispered softly, just loud enough for her to hear before walking out into the flashing police lights.
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Left alone in the quiet study with the crying baby, Elena’s hands shook as she reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a hidden mini-recording device that had been capturing every single word of the conversation.
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