Chapter 2 - THE NURSE'S CONFESSION
Vincent’s dark eyes bored into mine.
The silence in the dining room was absolute. Thirty-two guests barely breathed, their expensive wine glasses forgotten on the table.
“Answer me, Grace,” Vincent commanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “Why did Isabella ask your aunt to place you in this house?”
I looked down at Lily. She was gripping my apron, her small knuckles white. I had promised my Aunt Margaret I would only speak if Lily was in danger.
Vanessa’s presence in this house, throwing away Isabella’s letters, was the ultimate danger.
“Because my Aunt Margaret was a nurse at the St. Jude Private Clinic,” I said, my voice shaking but clear. “She was the one administering Isabella’s IV treatments during her final months.”
Vanessa took another step back, her red silk gown rustling against the marble floor. “Vincent, she’s making this up. Her aunt was a low-level maid!”
“My aunt was a registered nurse,” I corrected, looking directly at Vanessa. “Until she was quietly fired six months before Isabella died. Because Isabella discovered someone was tampering with her medication.”
A collective gasp echoed around the table.
Vincent’s face turned to stone. “Tampering?”
“Isabella wasn't just losing her battle with illness, Mr. Moretti,” I said, the truth finally spilling out. “She was being poisoned. Slowly. Someone was slipping a heavy metal compound into her daily saline bags. Aunt Margaret found the empty vials in the medical waste. When she tried to report it, the clinic’s administrator threatened her life.”
Vincent looked down at the photograph in his hand. The photograph of his late wife standing outside that very clinic. Beside a younger Vanessa.
“Vanessa,” Vincent said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “You told me you worked in real estate. But you used to be a pharmaceutical rep. Didn't you?”
Vanessa’s throat swallowed convulsively. “Vincent, you can't believe this girl. She’s trying to extort us!”
“Isabella knew she was running out of time,” I continued, ignoring Vanessa. “She knew the poison was already in her organs. But she also knew the person doing it was planning to take her place. She asked Aunt Margaret to find someone invisible. A maid. Someone who could watch over Lily when she was gone.”
Rosa Moretti closed her eyes, tears slipping down her wrinkled cheeks. “My poor Isabella. She knew.”
“She knew,” I confirmed. “And she left proof.”
Vincent stepped closer to me. “Where is the proof, Grace?”
“Aunt Margaret hid the empty poison vials in Isabella’s old winter coat,” I said. “The heavy blue wool one. It’s in the cedar closet upstairs.”
Vanessa suddenly lunged forward, her polished veneer completely shattered. She grabbed a silver steak knife from the table.
“Nobody is going upstairs!” she screamed, her eyes wild.
But it wasn't Vincent who stopped her.
It was Vincent’s younger brother, Carlo, who stepped out from the shadows of the archway. He gripped Vanessa’s wrist, twisting it until the knife clattered to the floor.
“You’re pathetic, Vanessa,” Carlo sneered.
Vincent looked at his brother with relief. “Carlo. Secure her. We’re calling the police.”
“I don't think so, brother,” Carlo said.
May you like
Before anyone could react, Carlo pulled a dark steel handgun from his tailored suit jacket. But he didn't point it at Vanessa.
He pointed it directly at Lily.
