Chapter 3 - The Uninvited Guests
By noon, the atmosphere in the house was suffocatingly quiet.
I came downstairs to find Vanessa sitting at the dining table, tapping furiously on her phone. She looked up as I entered, her expression turning defensive.
"I hope you’ve calmed down," she said, setting her phone face-down. "I called my mother. She’s coming over for lunch. We need to have a serious talk about your mother's mental state, Ethan. She’s getting forgetful, and frankly, her hygiene is becoming an issue."
I looked at her, amazed by the sheer audacity of her gaslighting. "Your mother is coming here?"
"Yes," Vanessa said smoothly, standing up and smoothing her cream trousers. "Evelyn has experience with senior care. She agrees with me that Martha needs to be placed in a assisted living facility immediately. It’s not fair to expect me to act as a nurse while you’re traveling."
"A facility," I repeated flatly.
"It’s for the best," she said, stepping toward me with a sweet, manipulative smile that used to disarm me completely. She reached out to touch my chest. "We’re young, Ethan. We have your massive tech career. We can't have our life dragged down by an old woman who belongs in a home."
I pulled back from her touch before her hand could even make contact. Her smile faltered, replaced by a sudden flash of annoyance.
"Don't be like that, Ethan," she huffed. "I did what was necessary."
Before I could answer, the front door chimed.
Moments later, Evelyn Reed and her youngest daughter, Chloe, swept into the foyer. Both were draped in expensive designer coats—bought, no doubt, with the money stolen from my house staff budget.
"Ethan, darling!" Evelyn announced loudly, leaning in to kiss my cheek. I stepped back, letting her kiss the air. She didn't miss a beat. "Welcome back from America! Vanessa told me about the little misunderstanding this morning. Don't worry, sweetie, we’re here to help you sort out your mother."
"Misunderstanding?" I said, leaning against the archway, folding my arms across my chest.
"Oh, you know how old people get," Chloe giggled, checking her lipstick in a compact mirror. "They play the victim the second they don't get their way. Honestly, Vanessa has been a saint putting up with her for six months."
"A saint," I said, my voice dangerously soft. "Is that what you call someone who dumps an old woman's heart medication down the drain?"
The dining room went dead quiet.
Evelyn's smile froze. Chloe dropped her compact mirror onto the rug. Vanessa gasped, her eyes darting nervously toward the ceiling where the hidden sensors rested.
"What... what are you talking about?" Vanessa stammered, her voice losing its confidence.
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"I checked the security archives an hour ago, Vanessa," I said quietly. "The encrypted cloud feed from the smoke detectors. Thirty days of continuous, high-definition video and audio."
Vanessa turned as white as a sheet.
