Chapter 11 - The Garden Chase
The labyrinth of boxwood hedges was a maze I had memorized during quiet afternoons when the mansion felt less like a home and more like a gilded cage. Miller’s boots crunched loudly on the gravel paths behind me, but his breathing was ragged, heavy with age and bad habits. I ducked beneath the low-hanging boughs of an ancient weeping beech, the leaves brushing coolly against my shoulders and tangling in my long dark hair.
I pressed myself into the dense shadow of the trunk, listening. The footsteps overshot my position, crashing further down the gravel path toward the fountain terrace.
I waited thirty seconds, counting the slow, steady thumps of my own pulse, before slipping out the opposite side of the hedge. My white gown was a beacon in the moonlight, a foolish choice for a midnight escape, but changing had been a luxury I hadn't been afforded. I skirted the edge of the formal rose garden, keeping low behind the stone balustrades until I reached the staff cottage near the western gate.
A single yellow light burned in the kitchen window. Elena.
I crept up the slate path and tapped three times sharply on the glass. The curtain twitched aside, and Elena’s pale, startled face appeared in the opening. She unlocked the back door immediately, pulling me inside into the warm, narrow kitchen smelling of chamomile tea and bleach.
"You shouldn't be here, ma'am," Elena whispered, her hands fluttering nervously at the black fabric of her dress. "Mr. Lorenzo called back from the city. He’s coming back tonight. He checked the study ledger again and found... well, he knows something else is missing."
"He doesn't know the half of it, Elena," I said, catching my breath and pulling the phone from my pocket to show her the sharp, clear photographs of the documents in Miller's safe. "Look at this. The board isn't just protecting the foundation. They're laundering money through shell companies, and they used my signature to anchor the liability."
Elena stared at the glowing screen, her eyes wide with mounting horror. "Mr. Miller... he administers those accounts. He told me it was just standard philanthropic rebalancing."
May you like
"It's a federal penitentiary ticket for anyone whose name is on the line," I said, locking my gaze onto hers. "And right now, Lorenzo thinks my name is the only one on it. We need to get to my legal counsel in the city before Lorenzo returns tonight."
Elena looked from the phone to the locked front door, her face pale with fear, then slowly nodded.
