At 2:00 AM, the lock on the master bedroom door clicked again.
Danielle's eyes snapped open in the dark. She instantly buried her face back into her knees, forcing her shoulders to tremble as if she were having a nightmare.
Agnes marched into the room. She carried a metal basin filled with warm water and a white towel.
The housekeeper threw the towel directly at Danielle's face. The damp fabric hit her cheek with a wet slap.
"Wipe him down," Agnes commanded. "The doctors said he needs physical stimulation to prevent muscle atrophy. Do your job."
Danielle pulled the towel off her face. Her fingers dug into the terrycloth. She gripped it so hard her knuckles ached. She stared at Agnes's shoes, fighting the overwhelming urge to wrap the towel around the woman's neck.
Agnes scoffed and walked out, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Danielle sat on the bed, holding the warm towel. She looked at Deforest's pale face. An image of Carson flashed in her mind-Carson lying in a hospital bed, tubes shoved down her throat, her life ruined by Elliott Stuart and his entire, rotten family. Her anger needed an outlet, and the man in the bed-Elliott's brother-was the closest target. Danielle shoved the warm towel roughly against Deforest's bare chest. She dragged it down his skin with zero gentleness, pressing hard enough to leave red streaks.
The sharp clack of high heels hitting the marble hallway broke the silence.
The bedroom door swung wide open. Tierney Stuart walked in, wearing a custom trench coat over a designer dress. She looked down her nose at the scene.
Tierney saw Danielle aggressively scrubbing Deforest's chest. Disgust flashed in her eyes, quickly followed by a dark, calculating gleam.
Tierney marched over and snatched the towel out of Danielle's hands. She threw it into the water basin. Water splashed onto the carpet.
Tierney's face instantly shifted into a mask of exaggerated pity. She spoke in a high, soothing voice, like she was talking to a stray dog.
"Oh, you poor thing," Tierney cooed. "Agnes is a monster for making you do this. Come with me. I'll take you somewhere safe to sleep."
Danielle caught the malicious glint in Tierney's eyes. Her stomach tightened. This was a trap.
But staying in this room meant staying under the cameras. Danielle needed to get out. She forced tears into her eyes and nodded frantically.
She reached out and grabbed the sleeve of Tierney's expensive trench coat, clutching it like a lifeline.
Tierney's jaw clenched. She visibly restrained herself from slapping Danielle's hand away. "Let's go. Quickly."
Tierney led her out of the room. They bypassed the main staircase, taking the narrow servant stairs down to the back exit of the manor.
A bright red Porsche sat idling under the trees in the freezing rain.
Tierney opened the passenger door and shoved Danielle inside. She slid into the driver's seat and hit the central locking button. The doors locked with a heavy clunk. In the dim light of the car's interior, Danielle quietly reached up, twisting her messy hair into a tight bun. She secured it with a silver cloud hairpin, the only piece of her true identity she had kept hidden during her performance.
Tierney slammed on the gas. The Porsche roared to life, tearing down the driveway and out into the dark, rainy night.
The inside of the car smelled overwhelmingly of heavy, floral perfume. It made Danielle's throat close up. She twisted her fingers together in her lap, keeping her head down.
Tierney reached into the center console. She pulled out a bottle of Fiji water, already uncapped, and shoved it toward Danielle. "Drink this. It will calm your nerves."
Danielle took the bottle with shaking hands. As they passed under a streetlamp, the yellow light illuminated the water. Danielle's sharp eyes caught tiny, undissolved white particles floating near the bottom.
She brought the bottle to her lips. She tilted her head back, pretending to take a massive gulp. Instead, she pressed her tongue against the opening and let the water spill down her chin, directly into the wide, loose sleeve of her oversized sweater.
Tierney watched her in the rearview mirror. Seeing Danielle's throat bob, a cruel, satisfied smile spread across Tierney's face.
Danielle lowered the bottle. She let her head loll to the side, resting her cheek against the cold glass of the window. She closed her eyes, letting her breathing slow down until she appeared completely unconscious.
The Porsche sped through the rain, heading straight for the Grande Hotel in Manhattan.
