. CHAPTER 2 — The Water Hit Like Punishment
The first blast struck Eleanor across the chest so hard she gasped.
Cold water soaked through the thin cotton of her nightgown, flattening the fabric against her fragile ribs. Eleanor raised one shaking hand, not to fight, only to protect her face, but Vanessa adjusted the nozzle and sprayed higher.
“Please,” Eleanor cried, her voice breaking into a sound too small for the size of the estate. “Vanessa, please stop.”
Vanessa stood twenty feet away on the perfect lawn, one hand on the hose, the other resting against her hip. In the morning sun, she looked almost elegant. Only her eyes told the truth.
“You spilled tea on my rug,” she said. “Now you can learn what cleaning feels like.”
Marisol lunged forward and wrapped her arms around Eleanor, turning her own body into a shield. The water slapped across the black fabric of her maid uniform, across her apron, across the white frills at her shoulders. She lowered her head and held Eleanor tighter.
“Ma’am, she’ll get sick,” Marisol pleaded. “She’s already weak.”
Vanessa laughed softly.
“She’s dramatic. Old people are always dramatic.”
Eleanor sobbed into Marisol’s shoulder. Her white hair clung to her cheeks. Her lips shook. She tried to breathe between bursts of water, but every time she did, Vanessa sent another spray across her face.
From the second-floor window, a small red light blinked inside an old security camera housing.
Vanessa had forgotten it existed.
Nathan had installed those cameras for his mother after a minor fall the previous winter. He told everyone they were there for safety, but he had also connected them to a private archive after Eleanor once whispered, “Things change when you leave.”
At the time, Nathan had not understood.
That morning, as his car turned through the iron gates, he saw mist rising above the hedges. At first he thought the sprinklers were running too high.
Then he heard his mother scream.
The sound ripped the breath from his chest.
Nathan shoved the car door open before the driver fully stopped. His shoes hit the wet stone. He ran toward the patio, past the rose beds, past the marble lions, toward the scene that would divide his life into before and after.
He saw Vanessa smiling.
May you like
He saw Marisol shielding his mother on the ground.
He saw the hose in his wife’s hand.
