Chapter 7 - Ten Days to DisappearEleanor did not knock.
She stood on Grace's porch and waited until the door opened.
Her cream-colored outfit had been replaced by a navy silk blouse and perfectly tailored trousers. She carried no handbag, only the envelope.
Rosa remained seated at the kitchen table.
Eleanor noticed her immediately.
"Rosa. I thought you had finished work."
"I brought Grace dinner."
"How considerate."
The words sounded pleasant.
The tone did not.
Grace stepped onto the porch, leaving the screen door between herself and Eleanor.
"What do you want?"
Eleanor held out the envelope.
"Official notice."
Grace opened it.
Her employment had been terminated.
The stated reason was serious misconduct involving a minor resident.
The letter further claimed that her license to occupy the gardener's cottage would end in ten days.
Grace read it slowly.
"Daniel signed this?"
"Human resources acted on the family's instructions."
"That's not what I asked."
Eleanor tilted her head.
"Daniel has more important things to manage."
Grace folded the letter.
"Like the north parcel?"
Eleanor's expression did not move.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The environmental reports. Martin's consultants. Morrow Field Services."
Eleanor looked toward the window.
Inside, Rosa stood up.
Grace continued.
"Lydia knew something was wrong with those accounts."
For the first time, Eleanor appeared genuinely surprised.
Only for a moment.
Then her face settled into practiced calm.
"Lydia was ill for a long time, Grace."
"She was a lawyer."
"She was my daughter-in-law."
"And she kept records."
Eleanor stepped closer.
"You've mistaken your proximity to this family for membership in it."
Grace felt the insult land, but she refused to lower her gaze.
"I never wanted to belong to your family."
"Then you should have remembered that before inserting yourself into our affairs."
"Your granddaughter was locked inside a greenhouse."
"Careful."
The word was almost a whisper.
Grace stared at her.
Eleanor continued, "You are unemployed. Your accommodation is ending. And your professional reputation has been damaged. You should concentrate on repairing your own life."
Grace held up the letter.
"I'll have my attorney review this."
Eleanor's smile returned.
"Of course."
She turned toward the steps.
Then stopped.
"One more thing."
Grace waited.
"Stay away from Sophie."
Something in Grace's chest tightened.
"She needs people who protect her."
Eleanor looked back.
"She has her family."
"That's what worries me."
For the first time, Eleanor's composure visibly cracked.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Goodnight, Grace."
She walked toward her car.
Only after the sedan disappeared did Rosa step outside.
"Are you all right?"
Grace shook her head.
"No."
Rosa looked at the letter.
"I can help you pack."
Grace wanted to refuse.
Instead, she nodded.
They worked quietly.
Around nine, Rosa found a framed photograph inside an old wooden box.
It showed Grace and Lydia kneeling beside the newly planted lemon tree.
Lydia was smiling.
Her hair was shorter from treatment, but her eyes were bright.
Grace touched the frame.
"She gave me this the day we planted it."
Rosa studied the photograph.
"Look at the pot."
Grace turned it toward the lamp.
The planter was tilted slightly toward the camera.
Beneath its blue ceramic bowl was a circular base decorated with tiny white leaves.
Rosa pointed.
"That's the part I remember."
"What?"
"Lydia asked the pottery studio to make the base separately."
Grace looked closer.
The white-leaf decoration formed a ring around the bottom.
"Why?"
Rosa shook her head.
"She said she wanted it to be easy to clean."
Grace remembered something else.
After Lydia died, Eleanor ordered several of her personal belongings removed from the mansion.
But Sophie had cried when workers tried to take the lemon tree.
Daniel had intervened.
The planter stayed.
Grace stared at the photograph.
Lydia had known Eleanor might search her possessions.
But Eleanor would never willingly destroy something Sophie loved, at least not where Daniel might see.
The plant had become its own protection.
"Rosa," Grace said, "has anyone ever replaced that planter?"
"Not that I know."
They looked at each other.
Then Rosa spoke softly.
"Daniel doesn't know about any of this."
Grace felt anger rise.
"Daniel knows how to believe his mother."
"He made a terrible mistake."
"He didn't make a mistake. He chose to hurt me."
Rosa nodded.
"Yes."
She did not try to excuse him.
That made Grace trust her more.
The following morning, Daniel discovered the termination letter.
He had received a courtesy copy through the company's employee system.
He read it twice.
Then called the human resources administrator.
"Who authorized this?"
"Mrs. Vale's office."
"Did I approve it?"
"No, sir. Mr. Shaw said the decision had family authorization."
Daniel closed his eyes.
"Put the termination on administrative hold pending counsel's review. Do not alter any records, and preserve all related communications."
"Sir, Grace has already received notice."
"I understand."
He ended the call and walked directly to Eleanor's rooms.
She was reading near the fireplace.
"You fired Grace?"
Eleanor looked up.
"Someone had to make a decision."
"You had no authority to do that."
"I have protected this household for forty years."
"That doesn't give you control over company employees."
Eleanor closed her book.
"She threatened me."
Daniel stopped.
"How?"
"She implied I was involved in financial misconduct."
Daniel stared at her.
The accusations against Grace.
The missing environmental reports.
The development proposal.
The forgotten warning from Lydia.
Pieces he had resisted connecting began shifting together.
He spoke carefully.
"Mother, do you know Cresswell Management?"
Eleanor's fingers tightened around the book.
"Why?"
"Because your name appears in its old filings."
She looked at him for a long moment.
Then said something that frightened him far more than a denial.
"Daniel, there are things your father did that you are not prepared to understand."
Before he could answer, his phone rang.
Ellis Warren.
"Mr. Vale," Ellis said, his voice strained. "You asked me to preserve the garden camera recordings."
"Yes."
"There's a problem."
"What kind of problem?"
"The recording between 2:58 and 3:21 on Friday is missing."
May you like
Daniel looked at his mother.
Eleanor looked back without blinking.
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