Then he looked at Maria—the housekeeper with no medical degree.
His business instincts chose the “logical” side.
“Leave,” he told Maria coldly.
She took a deep breath.
But before she walked out, she grabbed something from the side table—an empty glass vial Diane had just used to prepare the injection—and slipped it into one of her yellow gloves.
At the front door she paused.
“I’ll go, Mr. Hayes,” she said quietly. “But here’s a free piece of advice—something your expensive doctors didn’t mention.”
“If your children are truly sick… why does the nurse keep their medicine in her purse instead of the house medical cabinet?”
She looked back at him.
“Check the kitchen security cameras. Today. Two p.m.”
Then she stepped out into the rain.
Curiosity turned into dread when Jonathan opened the camera footage.
The video was crystal clear.
There was Diane, alone in the kitchen.
She removed an unlabeled bottle from her designer bag and poured the liquid into the boys’ juice with a calm smile.
Jonathan’s stomach dropped.
He rewound the footage.
Earlier that morning he saw Maria dancing with the twins in her yellow gloves…
And his “disabled” sons standing up.
Laughing.
Walking.