ment. She slid it, along with the silver key, i

the flame to her grandfather's handwritten note, watching

eenhouse. The sky outside was just be

changed into a simple, gray loungewear set. Her e

se Hortensia's lies before the family court. A public breakfast where Hortensia's own hand would t

nes, the head cook, saw her and immediately looked do

the industrial refrigerator

large pot of vegetable chowder-no seafood at all. She knew Hortensia's allergy all too w

oor. Daxton's mother, Meredith, and his s

Emmie carrying the soup tureen. "God, the whol

maid anyway. It's the only thing she's good for. Don't forget the l

't change. She turned around and walked

e white dress. Her left cheek was visibly red-she had

rs. Ellis," she said softly, turning her head j

done it-the maid had reported everything. But she chose to say nothing, letting

errified, glancing toward the kitchen where Emmi

e didn't look at them. She sat at the abso

just want peace." To prove her point, she

poon from the center of

r for a crab salad-left over from last night's dinner that Emmie hadn't attended. She saw

dropped the spoon. It clatt

the expensive Persian rug. She let out a horrific, high-pitched wheezing sound as her airway ra

her chair backward. "Get th

ed into chaos. Maids r

. She took a slow sip of her black coffee. Her co

ade Hortensia a separate bowl of plain oatmeal.

ia had dropped. A tiny, microscopic shred

aminated serving spoon to eat the soup. S

e stairs. Daxton burst into the dining r

the floor. Then, h

mie. The look in his eyes wa