Chapter 6 - A Call for Help
Maya didn't hesitate any longer. She quickly dialed 911.
The dispatcher answered almost immediately on the second ring.
"911. What is your emergency?"
Keeping her voice barely above a harsh whisper, Maya leaned against the broken frame.
"My name is Maya Bennett," she said rapidly. "I am a domestic employee at the Hawthorne estate in Greenwich. A child is being held inside a hidden wall chamber."
"Ma'am, stay calm," the dispatcher instructed. "Is the child conscious?"
"Yes," Maya said, her eyes fixed on Noah’s trembling frame. "But he is severely malnourished and extremely weak. I believe he is actively being poisoned or heavily sedated."
"Do you know who put him there?"
Before Maya could answer, Noah’s head snapped toward the far end of the darkened corridor.
All the color drained from his face.
"Someone's coming," he whispered, horror paralyzing his voice.
A second later, Maya heard it too.
Measured, deliberate footsteps.
Sharp high heels clicking slowly across the marble floor.
Without hanging up the line, Maya jammed the phone deep into the hidden pocket inside her apron, praying the dispatch operator could hear everything that was about to happen.
She pushed the heavy, damaged painting frame back toward the wall opening.
The broken wood jammed against the stone base, leaving a three-inch gap exposed.
Moments later...
Celeste Hawthorne appeared at the end of the long walnut corridor.
She still wore her elegant blue evening gown. A crystal champagne flute rested effortlessly between her manicured fingers.
Her expression was warm, pleasant, and completely composed.
May you like
It was the exact same bright smile she had worn minutes earlier while addressing two hundred donors in the ballroom about protecting vulnerable children.
"Maya," Celeste said softly, her voice echoing in the quiet hallway. "What are you doing in the west wing?"
