“That is a very serious accusation for a maid to make,” she said.

“I know about the powder,” I said, pointing to the silver tray. “I know what you’ve been putting in his milk.”

“And who would believe you?” she asked.

She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a sleek black smartphone.

She tapped the screen, and the blue light illuminated the deep wrinkles around her mouth.

“Did you receive my message?” she asked.

My stomach dropped.

“That was you,” I said.

“My associates are very thorough,” she said. “The Astoria Care Facility is terribly understaffed at night.”

She took a step closer to me, her shoes clicking softly on the hardwood floor.

The smell of lavender water and mothballs drifted off her clothes.

“Your mother has a very weak heart, Cameron,” she whispered. “It would take so little to stop it.”

“If you touch her, I’ll kill you,” I said, my fists clenching at my sides.

Mrs. Higgins let out a dry, rattling laugh.

“You won’t do anything of the sort,” she said. “Because you want her to live.”