The message was a video from a security camera. Before Sandra could even y it, a text followed.


    Hannah: [This morning, she tried to give me Lionel''s car keys. I wonder if there''s something in the car she wanted me to find. Also, when he came homest night, he smelled of Cora''s perfume, not yours.]


    Sandra''s fingers trembled, nearly dropping the phone. Her face a mask of disbelief, she tapped y on the video.


    To an outsider, it would look like nothing more than a maid helping her employer out of a car. But Sandra knew women. It was a masterss in making a move while appearing to do nothing at all.


    She nced at the timestamp on the footage, and her expression darkened. Lionel had left her house hours ago. Why had it taken him so long to get home? Combined with Hannah''s message, a deeply unsettling thought began to form.


    Suddenly, the video and the message were retracted.


    Hannah: [Sent to the wrong person.]


    Sandra stared at the four words. Wrong person, or a deliberate move? The answer was obvious.


    "That bitch," she seethed, her tongue pressing against the inside of her cheek. "Trying to bait me into checking Lionel''s car. Does she think I''m that stupid?"


    She hadn''t met Cora, but Hannah''s message was enough to tell her the girl was trouble. She had assumed that once Hannah was gone, she could smoothly take her ce. Now, this Cora had appeared-just a maid, yes, but one who was always by Lionel''s side. If she made her move first, it could be a repeat of what happened with Hannah all those years ago.


    Sandra set down her phone, closed her eyes, and chewed on her thumbnail, her mind racing.


    An idea sparked in her mind.


    "Hannah," she whispered to herself with a cruel smile, "since you delivered her to me on a silver tter, don''t me me for what happens next."


    Hannah waited for a reply. When none came, she locked her phone. She had given Sandra the hint; what she did with it was her own business.


    She got up to pay the bill and was just at the door when Quennel called.


    "I''ll take this. You guys go on ahead," she said to her colleagues, stepping aside to answer.


    "Hello, Quennel."


    "The person who posted the video has been found," Quennel''s voice, smooth as flowing water came through the phone. My people are on their way to pick him up. will be resolved soon, so don''t worry."


    "Thank you, Quennel," Hannah said, filled with gratitude. When she first saw the video, her mind had gone nk with panic. But the immediate support from Mr. Lancaster and Quennel had felt like two strong


    hands pulling her back from the brink, allowing her to face the crisis with a clear head.


    The only one who hadn''t...


    "Lionel acted quickly this time as well. He did a good job helping you handle this."


    Quennel had seen the news that


    morning and was surprised by how


    swiftly and effectively Lionel had seemed to manage the crisis, Th?t was why he''d called immediately with his own update, afraid of being a step behind.


    "It wasn''t him. It was Yves-Mr. Lancaster," Hannah rified.


    On the other end of the line, Quennel''s eyes darkened, but a self-assured smile yed on his lips. "Mr. Lancaster was very thoughtful. I''ll have to thank him properly one of these days."