Chapter 1 - The Pills on the FloorGraham Ashford had barely closed the front door when he heard his son scream.
“DAD!”
The sound came from the living room.
Not fear from a nightmare.
Not anger.
Panic.
Graham dropped his briefcase and ran.
“Mason?”
He rounded the doorway—
and stopped.
His ten-year-old son was on the floor.
Pills were scattered across the rug and hardwood around him.
A lamp had been knocked sideways.
One chair was overturned.
And Helena Vale was holding Mason by both arms.
For almost eight years, Helena had been more than an employee.
She had helped raise Mason.
She knew his favorite breakfast.
His allergies.
The name of every teacher he’d ever liked.
After Graham’s marriage fell apart, Helena had been the steady person inside a house full of tension.
Now Mason was fighting to get away from her.
“LET GO OF ME!”
“Mason!”
Graham crossed the room.
The moment Helena saw him, something strange happened.
Her hands opened.
Mason scrambled backward.
Helena stared at Graham as though he were a stranger.
Then at the room.
Then at her own hands.
“I…”
She touched her forehead.
“Where am I?”
Graham froze.
“What?”
Helena’s breathing became rapid.
“I don’t…”
She looked toward Mason.
Her face emptied.
“I don’t know why I’m here.”
Mason crawled toward his father.
Graham pulled him up.
“Are you hurt?”
Mason shook his head.
His face was wet with tears.
“She wouldn’t let me leave.”
Graham looked at Helena.
“What did you do to my son?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I really don’t.”
Helena pressed both palms to her temples.
“The last thing I remember…”
She stopped.
“What?”
“I was upstairs.”
Mason clutched Graham’s shirt.
“She was acting weird.”
“How?”
“She kept asking me what day it was.”
Helena looked horrified.
“I did?”
Mason nodded.
“Then she came down with that bag.”
He pointed.
A brown leather bag sat beside the overturned chair.
Old.
Scratched.
Heavy.
Graham had never seen it before.
Helena looked at it.
Her face changed.
Only for a second.
But Graham saw it.
Recognition.
Fear.
Then something close to disbelief.
Mason whispered:
“Dad…”
Graham looked at him.
“There’s evidence in there.”
Graham frowned.
“What evidence?”
Mason swallowed.
“The kind that can make us lose everything.”
The room became silent.
Graham stared at his son.
“What are you talking about?”
Mason pointed toward the bag.
“I opened it.”
“You went through Helena’s things?”
“It was already open.”
Helena suddenly said:
“No.”
Everyone turned.
Her voice had changed.
Not confused now.
Terrified.
Graham watched her.
“You know that bag.”
Helena shook her head too quickly.
“No.”
“You just reacted to it.”
“I…”
She looked at the pills around Mason.
Then at the bag again.
“I don’t understand.”
Mason tightened his grip on Graham.
“I saw papers.”
“What kind?”
“Bank stuff.”
Graham looked at him.
“Bank stuff?”
“Transfers.”
Mason was only ten, but Graham had taught him enough about business to recognize wire instructions and account summaries.
Mason continued:
“There were a lot of zeros.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why did you say we could lose everything?”
Mason’s face crumpled.
“Because there was a note.”
Graham’s pulse changed.
“What note?”
“It said if the transfers were discovered, the Ashford family assets could be frozen.”
Graham slowly turned toward the bag.
Helena stepped back.
“Graham…”
He looked at her.
“What?”
“Don’t open it.”
That was the wrong thing to say.
Graham walked toward the chair.
Helena moved after him.
“Please.”
He stopped.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“You just told me not to.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
Helena looked physically ill.
“I don’t remember.”
Graham stared at her.
Mason spoke quietly.
“She said that before too.”
“When?”
“Before you came home.”
Graham looked at his son.
“What exactly happened?”
Mason wiped his eyes.
“I came downstairs because I heard something fall.”
“What?”
“The bag.”
“Helena dropped it?”
Mason nodded.
“She was standing by Grandpa’s old desk.”
Graham frowned.
His father, Arthur Ashford, had been dead for two years.
The desk remained in the living room because Graham couldn’t bring himself to remove it.
“What was she doing there?”
“I don’t know.”
“She opened a drawer.”
“Which drawer?”
“The bottom one.”
Graham looked toward the antique desk.
That drawer had been locked for years.
Arthur had kept old company papers inside.
After his death, Graham had never found the key.
Mason continued:
“Then Helena found the bag.”
Graham turned toward her.
“You took that from my father’s desk?”
Helena stared.
“I don’t remember.”
Mason shook his head.
“She started crying.”
Graham’s eyes narrowed.
“Then what?”
“I asked what was wrong.”
“She said…”
Mason hesitated.
Graham crouched.
“What did she say?”
“She said, ‘Arthur was right.’”
Helena’s face went completely white.
Graham slowly stood.
“My father?”
Helena whispered:
“No.”
“You said his name.”
“I don’t remember.”
Mason continued:
“Then she saw me reading the papers.”
“She grabbed the bag.”
“I tried to run.”
“She grabbed me.”
“The pills fell.”
Graham looked at the scattered tablets.
“Whose are those?”
Helena looked down.
For several seconds she did not answer.
Then:
“Mine.”
Graham felt another layer of fear settle over the room.
“What are they?”
“My prescription.”
“For what?”
Helena stared at the tablets.
“They don’t look like my prescription.”
Silence.
Graham crouched.
He did not touch them.
Different shapes.
Different markings.
Mason whispered:
“Dad?”
Graham looked at him.
“What?”
“Someone called Helena before you got here.”
Helena turned sharply.
Mason continued:
“She answered.”
“What did she say?”
“She said she found the bag.”
Graham’s heartbeat increased.
“Who was she talking to?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did the other person say?”
Mason’s voice dropped.
“I only heard one part.”
“What?”
“They said…”
He looked at Helena.
“Make sure Graham never sees it.”
Helena stumbled backward.
“No.”
Graham turned.
“Who called you?”
“I don’t know!”
“You answered.”
“I don’t remember.”
The doorbell rang.
Everyone froze.
Once.
Then again.
Graham looked toward the entrance.
His phone vibrated.
A message appeared.
From his older brother, Julian.
I’M OUTSIDE. DON’T OPEN HELENA’S BAG.
Graham stared at the screen.
He had not called Julian.
May you like
No one had.
And somehow his brother already knew exactly what was sitting beside the chair.
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