Chapter 5 - The Master of the House
David stood in the doorway, a tall, imposing man in his early forties with disheveled dark hair and a heavy frown lines etched deep into his forehead. He blinked against the harsh outdoor lighting, taking in the surreal tableau before him: Clara drenched and standing by a locked door with a crying baby; Maya shivering in a soaked maid uniform by the pool; and Elena standing calmly near the center of the patio in her immaculate green dress.
“Clara? Why are you soaking wet? Why is the baby crying?” David asked, his voice sharp with rising panic as he hurried across the stone patio, ignoring the water pooling around his slippers.
Clara immediately transformed, her frantic aggression melting instantly into pathetic, theatrical helplessness. She stumbled toward him, throwing herself against his chest, careful to keep the baby elevated above the impact.
“David! Thank God!” Clara sobbed loudly, burying her face in his bathrobe. “It’s Maya! She lost her mind! She pushed the baby into the pool, and when I jumped in to save him, she tried to drown me too!”
David froze, his arms awkwardly hovering around Clara’s wet back. He looked past her shoulder, his eyes locking onto Maya, who was still kneeling by the pool edge. The raw shock on Maya’s face was palpable. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat.
“Maya?” David whispered, his voice dangerously low. “Is this true?”
“No! Mr. Davis, I swear to you, it’s a lie!” Maya cried out, scrambling to her feet, ignoring her trembling limbs. “I was cleaning the glass doors! She brought the baby out here, and—and she tripped near the edge! I jumped in to save the little boy!”
Elena crossed her arms again, watching David carefully. She knew how easily David was swayed by Clara’s calculated tears, yet she also knew David valued undeniable facts above all else.
“David, ask her where her phone is,” Elena interjected smoothly, her voice cutting through Clara’s renewed sobbing.
David looked at Elena, his brow furrowing further. “What does your phone have to do with this, Elena?”
“Ask her,” Elena repeated, stepping closer. “Or better yet, ask her why she just smashed mine when I tried to show you the security footage.”
Clara stiffened in David’s arms, her crying stopping abruptly for a terrifying, dead silence. She looked up at David with wide, pleading eyes.
“She’s lying, David. She’s trying to frame me because she wants me gone,” Clara whispered, her voice trembling with practiced fragility. “Look at her—she’s just a maid. Who are you going to believe? Your wife, or the hired help?”
May you like
David looked down at Clara, then slowly turned his head to look directly at the security camera mounted discreetly in the corner of the brick overhang, its small red indicator light blinking steadily in the dark.
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