“I know you can hear me,” she whispered. “I will not stop. I will find the truth.”
Her words became a lifeline. As she was dragged away, Silas managed one tiny blink. It was not farewell. It was a plea.
Janette was transported to a holding facility in Baton Rouge. They offered her a deal. If she admitted she accidentally dosed Silas during cleaning and claimed negligence, she would be freed under probation. If she refused, they would pursue attempted murder. She stared at the paper and tore it in half.
“No. I will not lie,” she said. “I am not afraid of the truth.”
The guards scoffed. They expected her to break. That night, on a lobby television, a news broadcast showed Tiffany outside a hospital. She wore sunglasses and spoke to reporters.
“I am not allowing visitors,” she said. “Silas is in an irreversible state. It is time to accept fate.”
Irreversible. Janette’s blood ran cold. She remembered something. When she first arrived to clean the ballroom that afternoon, Silas had dropped something between the cushions. She had seen his phone slide into the crack of the sofa. He must have hidden it deliberately before staging his fall.
If there was proof, it would be there.