Chapter 2 - The Camera Behind the Clock
I learned something terrifying the next morning.
Grant Sterling had not been the only person watching me.
At 6:17 a.m., I was changing Leo on the small sofa in Grant’s sitting room when Grant made a faint clicking sound with his tongue.
I turned.
His eyes moved toward the mantel.
Then toward me.
Then back again.
I followed his gaze.
A brass carriage clock sat between two framed photographs.
"What?"
Grant blinked once, then forced his eyes toward the clock again.
I walked closer.
Nothing looked unusual until I noticed a tiny black dot beneath the Roman numeral six.
My stomach dropped.
A camera.
I casually picked up a feather duster and moved around the room as though I were cleaning. When I reached the mantel, I deliberately turned the clock several degrees toward the wall.
Grant’s eyes closed in relief.
Someone had been monitoring his bedroom.
Which meant I had no idea how much they had seen.
I carried Leo into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and returned with my phone hidden inside a folded towel.
Grant could move his lips slightly now.
"Who put it there?" I whispered.
"Julian."
"Does he know you're awake?"
"Don't... know."
"Why is he doing this?"
Grant swallowed painfully.
"Company."
Sterling Meridian Logistics was worth more money than I could comprehend. Grant owned the controlling interest, but I remembered overhearing Julian tell an attorney that everything would "simplify" once his uncle died.
"What happens to the company if you die?"
"Trust."
"Julian gets it?"
Grant blinked twice.
No.
That surprised me.
"Then who?"
Grant stared at me for several seconds.
"My... sister."
I knew almost nothing about Grant’s family. According to the household staff, his younger sister, Evelyn, had died twelve years earlier.
"She's dead."
Grant blinked once.
"Her... daughter."
I frowned.
"You have another niece?"
"Isabel."
"Where is she?"
Grant's expression changed.
For the first time since he'd awakened, I saw something beyond fear in his eyes.
Regret.
"Don't know."
Before he could explain, footsteps approached.
I snatched up Leo and began bouncing him.
Julian entered with a woman I had never seen before.
She was perhaps sixty, elegant, silver-haired, carrying a leather portfolio.
"Mariana," Julian said. "Take your baby and leave us."
I glanced at Grant.
His face had already gone blank.
I obeyed.
But instead of going downstairs, I stopped behind the partially closed service door.
The woman spoke first.
"If Grant survives past Friday, the board meeting becomes a problem."
"He won't," Julian replied.
"You said that last week."
"Barragan increased the dosage."
"And the caregiver?"
"Desperate single mother. No family here. No money. She'll keep her mouth shut."
My blood turned cold.
The woman lowered her voice.
"You're underestimating her."
Julian laughed.
"I ran a background check. Mariana Reyes has eighty-seven dollars in checking, overdue medical bills, and a child whose father disappeared before he was born. People like her don't challenge people like us."
I pressed my hand against my mouth.
They knew everything.
Everything.
Then the woman said something that changed the situation completely.
"The codicil still exists."
Silence.
Julian's voice hardened.
"What codicil?"
"The one Grant signed three weeks before the accident."
Accident?
Grant had supposedly become ill.
"The attorney has it," she continued. "If Grant dies under suspicious circumstances, control doesn't pass through the family trust."
"Then where does it go?"
"To Isabel Sterling."
Julian cursed.
"You told me she couldn't be found."
"She couldn't."
"Then find her."
"And if she comes back?"
A long silence followed.
Julian answered softly.
"Then we'll bury two Sterlings."
I backed away from the door.
My heel struck something.
A decorative vase wobbled.
I caught it before it fell.
But the conversation inside stopped.
"Did you hear that?" the woman asked.
Footsteps approached.
I ran.
I made it around the corner seconds before Julian emerged.
Leo began fussing against my shoulder.
For once, his crying saved me.
I walked toward the stairs, humming loudly.
"Mariana."
I turned.
Julian stood at the end of the corridor.
His eyes traveled from me to Leo.
"Where were you?"
"Getting his bottle."
"The kitchen is downstairs."
"I forgot my phone."
He stared at me.
Then smiled.
It was worse than anger.
"Of course."
That afternoon, Dr. Barragan arrived again.
This time, I was ready.
Before he entered, I switched Grant's IV line to a saline bag I had found in the medical cabinet and loosened the connection behind the pump.
Barragan injected his syringe.
Most of the drug never reached Grant.
But Barragan stayed to watch.
So Grant had to pretend.
His breathing slowed deliberately.
His eyes remained unfocused.
His hands lay still.
I stood beside the window, praying.
Finally Barragan nodded.
"Progressing exactly as expected."
After he left, Grant inhaled sharply.
"Good... acting?" he whispered.
Despite everything, I nearly laughed.
"Terrible. Don't quit your day job."
Something shifted in his face.
The beginning of a smile.
It was the first time I saw Grant Sterling look alive.
That night, his strength improved dramatically.
Without the full dose, he could bend two fingers and turn his head slightly.
I fed him broth with a spoon.
Leo sat between us, slapping both hands against the mattress.
Grant watched him with a strange softness.
"You trust him," I said.
"Only... person here... without agenda."
"He's nine months old."
"Exactly."
I smiled.
Then Grant's expression became serious.
"Desk."
"What?"
"Bottom drawer."
His study was across the hall.
"What's there?"
"Insurance."
I waited until midnight.
The estate fell silent.
I slipped into Grant's office and opened the bottom drawer.
Locked.
I remembered the key around Grant's neck.
I had seen it every day while changing his gown.
I returned, removed the tiny brass key from its chain, and tried it.
Click.
Inside the drawer were several folders.
One contained financial records.
Another contained photographs.
The third was marked:
EVELYN STERLING — PRIVATE
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph of Grant beside a younger woman and a teenage girl.
On the back, someone had written:
Grant, Evelyn & Isabel — Santa Barbara, 2013.
Underneath it was an envelope addressed to Isabel.
I began reading.
Then I stopped.
Because the floorboard behind me creaked.
I slowly turned.
Julian stood in the doorway.
May you like
And he was holding Leo.
"Looking for something, Mariana?"
