Chapter 5 - The Price of Knowing
“Give me the book, Ruby,” Mrs. Ashcroft said, her voice dropping into a register that was low and terrifying. She stepped into the dusty room, her heels clicking softly on the hardwood. “You have no idea what you are holding. You have no idea of the forces that govern this family.”
Ruby backed away, her hands clutching the leather journal behind her back. “Eleanor didn't die in an accident, did she? You knew. You’ve been helping him cover it up.”
Mrs. Ashcroft let out a cold, bitter laugh. “Helping him? I have been protecting this estate since before Nathaniel Cross was old enough to hold a pen. Eleanor was weak. She was unstable, just like her son. She wanted to ruin everything we built. She wanted to destroy the Cross name because she couldn't handle the reality of how wealth is made.”
“By killing people?” Ruby snapped. “By terrorizing a five-year-old child?”
“The child saw something he shouldn't have,” Mrs. Ashcroft said, taking another step forward. Her hand reached into her pocket, and Ruby saw the glint of something silver—a small, heavy syringe. “And now, you have seen too much as well. It’s a pity. You were doing so well with him. But some people simply do not know how to be poor and quiet.”
Before Mrs. Ashcroft could reach her, Ruby lunged to the side.
She threw the silver-framed photograph of Eleanor at the house manager's face. The glass shattered against Mrs. Ashcroft's cheek, drawing a thin line of red.
Mrs. Ashcroft gasped, her hand flying to her face, and in that split second of distraction, Ruby bolted past her.
She ran down the hallway, the journal pressed tightly against her ribs. Her mind was a whirlwind of panic. She couldn't go to the security guards—they answered to Nathaniel. She couldn't go to the police—Nathaniel owned them.
She had to get Ollie. She had to get him out of this house tonight.
She reached the nursery, panting, her face flushed with sweat.
Ollie was awake, sitting on his bed, holding Barnaby the rabbit. He looked up, his eyes widening as he saw the terror on her face.
“Ollie,” Ruby gasps, running to him and dropping to her knees. “We have to go. We have to leave right now. Do you understand me? It’s not safe here.”
The boy didn't move, but his small hand tightened around her sleeve.
Suddenly, the lights in the nursery flickered.
And then, they went completely black.
The only illumination in the room was the pale moonlight filtering through the tall windows. The security alarms began to beep—a low, rhythmic warning that indicated a power override.
From the hallway, she heard footsteps. Heavy, deliberate, and multiple.
“Miss Lane,” a voice called out through the darkness. It was Nathaniel. But it wasn't his usual controlled voice. It was thick, dark, and filled with a desperate, terrifying authority. “Do not make this more difficult than it needs to be. Give me the journal, and we can discuss your brother's future. If you do not... I cannot guarantee his safety at the hospital.”
Ruby’s blood ran cold. He was threatening Miles.
She looked at Ollie. The boy was staring at her, his eyes reflecting the pale moonlight. He wasn't shaking anymore. Instead, he reached out and touched her cheek with his small, bandaged hand.
And then, he did something he hadn't done in two years.
He leaned close, his small lips brushing her ear, and whispered a single word.
“No.”
The word was tiny, barely a breath, but it hit Ruby like a physical blow. It wasn't the voice of a broken child. It was a warning.
In that moment, she understood.
The blood on the last nanny's uniform. The screams. The broken mirrors.
Ollie wasn't throwing tantrums because he was mad. He was throwing them because he was trying to keep them away from the door. He was trying to protect them from what was hidden inside.
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And the nineteen nannies hadn't been attacked by the child.
They had been attacked by the people trying to keep them from finding out.
