“You are a maid, Valerie,” she said, spitting the word like venom.

“I was a maid because you took everything my grandfather owned,” I replied.

“You cleaned my floors,” Miranda said. “You washed my dishes.”

“And I found your secrets,” I said.

Julian stepped between us, cutting off his mother’s glare.

“It is over, Mother,” Julian said. “The Board of Directors will receive these documents tomorrow morning.”

Miranda took a step back, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

The grandfather clock in the corner of the library chimed once, a heavy, metallic sound.

Outside, a flash of lightning illuminated the rain-slicked windows, casting long, skeletal shadows across the room.

Miranda reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone.

Her fingers hovered over the screen.

“I am going to make a phone call,” Miranda said, her voice suddenly calm.

“Who are you calling, Miranda?” Elias asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

“The Chicago Police Department,” Miranda said.

She looked at the document in my hand, her lips curling into a cruel smile.

“I am going to report an intruder, an aggregate of thieves, and a grand extortion plot,” she said.