Chapter 6 - The Night the Windows Broke

Dominic stepped into the kitchen as if he'd come down for a glass of milk.

“Mateo called me,” he said. “He sounded drunk and scared. I told him to pull over.”

“He said the brakes were cut,” Marisol snapped.

“He said a lot of things.” Dominic smiled at Constance. “Memory gets slippery at your age.”

“Mine isn't,” Marisol said. She lifted the photograph. “That's your ring at the car.”

Dominic didn't even blink. “Of course it is. I was at the fundraiser. So was everyone else.”

Elias entered before Marisol could answer. He took in Constance's tears, the picture, his cousin's perfect calm.

“Out,” he told Dominic.

“You're letting the maid run this family now?”

“Out.”

For the first time, Dominic's smile disappeared.

Two hours later, every window on the east side of the mansion exploded.

Marisol woke to glass raining into her room. A blast shook the floor. Somewhere downstairs, men shouted over automatic gunfire.

She ran barefoot toward the second floor, ignoring the pain shooting through her knee. Smoke rolled along the hallway. Owen Vale was yelling for everyone to take the main stairs.

Marisol knew better. The east stairwell faced the drive.

She reached the glass room and found Giata already dressed, gripping her wheelchair wheels.

“Don't tell me to stay calm,” Giata said.

“I was going to say we're taking the service elevator.”

“Much better.”

They pushed through the side door. A masked man appeared at the far end of the hall. He raised his rifle.

Marisol hurled the mop bucket she'd left outside the linen closet. It crashed into his legs. Giata rammed the chair forward, striking his knees as Marisol dragged a heavy laundry cart across the passage.

“Nice move,” Marisol gasped.

“I've had three years to hate people.”

They made it to the elevator as bullets punched holes in the cart. The doors slid closed, too slowly. Marisol saw a gloved hand reach between them.

A shot cracked. The hand vanished.

Elias stood beyond the narrowing gap, blood on his shirt, a gun steady in his right hand.

“Basement. Now!” he shouted.

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As the elevator dropped, Giata clutched Marisol's sleeve. Through the speaker above them, a stranger's voice hissed over the house security channel.

“Forget the boss. Find the blue case in the girl's room.”