Chương 8
“What if they are?”
“It is still rude.”
Iris hugged Bramble.
“Adults have too many rules for talking and not enough for being mean.”
Daniela had no correction.
A week after the gala, Mason Lee contacted Nia.
He had been working as a banquet server in the west corridor. He was twenty-one, studying civil engineering, and relied on a Mercer Foundation grant to cover the part of tuition his financial aid did not reach.
They met in a diner near his campus.
Mason arrived early and ordered nothing.
“I did not see anyone put the locket in the toy,” he said.
Nia nodded. “Tell us what you saw.”
He looked at Daniela.
“Mrs. Ward brought Iris into the scullery. She told me to get punch from the ballroom.”
“Was there already punch on Bramble?” Daniela asked.
“A spot on the leg. Not much.”
“What happened when you returned?”
“Mrs. Mercer was there.”
“Sabine?”
“Yes.”
“What was she holding?”
“A red jewelry case.”
Mason rubbed both palms against his jeans.
“She told me to spill more punch near the door.”
“Why?” Nia asked.
“She said a guest complained the floor was dry and slippery. That made no sense.”
“Did you spill it?”
“Yes.”
Daniela stared at him.
He looked down.
“I thought she wanted a reason to close the corridor. Then Mrs. Ward said if anyone asked, the child had made the mess.”
“Did you hear them discuss the toy?”
“Mrs. Mercer asked whether Ward found it. Ward said yes.”
“Found what?”
“They did not say.”
“The card,” Daniela said.
Mason’s eyes flicked toward her.
“The news says there was a card.”
Nia intervened.
“Do not fill gaps with later information. What did you hear that night?”
Mason swallowed.
“Mrs. Ward said, ‘The pocket was where you said.’ Mrs. Mercer said, ‘Then remove the risk and replace it.’”
Daniela gripped the edge of the table.
“Replace it with what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Will you tell the police?” Nia asked.
Mason looked toward the window.
“If I do, I lose my grant.”
“That may be retaliation.”
“That does not pay tuition next month.”
“Your school may have emergency funds.”
“May.”
Nia waited.
Mason’s voice became sharper.
“You all act like the right choice has a bank account attached.”
Daniela leaned back.
He was not wrong.
“Did you record anything?” Nia asked.
“No.”
“Messages? Scheduling instructions?”
“Celia texted me to report to the west corridor.”
“Keep the message.”
“That proves I was working.”
“It helps establish location.”
Mason stood.
“I need time.”
Daniela wanted to tell him he had none.
Instead she said, “Take it.”
Outside the diner, Nia looked at her.
“You are angry.”
“Yes.”
“You hid evidence in a toy because you were afraid of losing housing. He is afraid of losing tuition.”
“I did not frame a child.”
“No.”
Daniela shoved her hands into her coat pockets.
“I wanted him to be better than me.”
“That is an expensive expectation.”
The next reversal came from a wedding photographer.
She had been hired to photograph donors against the Mercer Hall stairway before dinner. During the commotion, she kept shooting because she did not know whether she was permitted to leave.
Her camera had captured forty-seven images in the service corridor through a decorative mirror.
Most were blurred.
One showed Celia holding Bramble by the torso while Sabine stood beside her. The red velvet case was open in Sabine’s hand.
Another, taken seconds later, showed Sabine passing something small toward the cut seam.
The object itself was hidden by the elephant’s ear.
The photographs did not show the locket entering Bramble.
They showed the opportunity with painful clarity.
The photographer refused to release full-resolution files unless subpoenaed or paid for licensing.
Her agency quoted $60,000 for exclusive rights.
Nia laughed for nearly a minute.
Gabriel did not.
“I’ll pay.”
“No,” Daniela said.
“It is evidence.”
“It is also a photograph of my daughter being handled by people who hurt her. I am not buying it from someone who watched.”
“She was working.”
“So was Mason.”
Nia leaned forward.
“We do not need exclusive rights. We need preservation and lawful access. A subpoena can accomplish that if litigation is filed.”
“When?” Daniela asked.
“Not tomorrow.”
“Everything good takes months.”
“Most bad things do too. They only look faster because the damage is immediate.”
The image leaked online that evening in low resolution.
The photographer denied releasing it.
Sabine’s lawyers called it misleading.
Celia’s attorney claimed she was merely inspecting the toy for damage.
Public opinion shifted again, but not completely. Some viewers said the image proved a frame-up. Others said Daniela might have asked Celia to remove the memory card and later accused her.
A columnist wrote that the entire scandal represented “a tragedy of mistrust between social classes.”
Daniela printed the column and used it beneath Mrs. Brooks’s leaking plant pot.
Celia called two nights later.
The number was blocked.
Daniela almost ignored it.
“I need to meet,” Celia said.
“Call Nia.”
“No lawyers.”
“Then no.”
“I have your memory card.”
Daniela sat up on the sofa bed.
Mrs. Brooks’s house was quiet except for the grandfather clock ticking in the hall.
“Where?”
“Safe.”
“That is not an answer.”
“If Sabine discovers I kept it, I am finished.”
“You helped put a stolen locket in my daughter’s toy.”
“I did not put it there.”
“You cut the elephant.”
“Yes.”
“You took the card.”
“Yes.”
“You handed Sabine the toy.”
A pause.
“Yes.”
“Then you helped.”
“I need protection.”
“From her?”
“From everyone.”
Daniela looked toward the yellow bedroom.
“Why should I help you?”
“Because I have messages.”
“Send them.”
“No.”
“Then keep them.”
She ended the call.
Celia called again.
Daniela turned off the phone.
In the morning, she told Nia.
Nia listened, then said, “We should meet her.”
Daniela stared.
“She confessed.”
“To you, over an unrecorded call from a blocked number. She will deny it.”
May you like
“I do not want to sit near her.”
“That is different from whether we should.”
