Chapter 5 - The Trap Springs
Footsteps thundered down the hallway.
Ethan burst into the kitchen, his face wild with shock as he saw Sarah holding Victoria pinned against the refrigerator, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled formula.
"SARAH!" Ethan yelled, rushing forward, grabbing Sarah by the shoulders and pulling her back. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
Victoria collapsed onto her knees on the floor, holding her reddened wrist, tears instantly streaming down her face, her body shaking violently.
"She tried to kill me, Ethan!" Victoria sobbed hysterically, pointing a trembling finger at the shattered glass on the floor. "I came in to offer her a tip for taking care of Leo, and she snapped! She threw a glass bottle at my head! She said she was going to cut my throat!"
Ethan looked at the shattered glass, then at Victoria’s red wrist, and then at Sarah, his face pale with utter disbelief and growing anger.
"Sarah..." Ethan stammered, his voice shaking. "Tell me you didn't do this."
"Mr. Ethan, listen to me!" Sarah begged, pointing at the pool of clear liquid on the tiles. "She pulled a glass dropper out of her coat! It was digitalis—poison! She tried to put it in Leo’s bottle!"
"Poison?!" Victoria shrieked, looking up at Ethan with wide, horrified eyes. "She’s completely insane, Ethan! She’s hallucinating! I don't even know what digitalis is! Check my pockets! Check my purse!"
Victoria dramatically turned her leather coat pockets inside out and dumped the contents of her designer handbag onto the kitchen island: lipstick, a gold compact, mints, and a leather wallet. There was no second dropper. No bottle. Nothing.
Sarah realized with a sickening thud in her stomach that Victoria had brought only that single glass vial—and now it was shattered, mixed with the spilled water and formula on the floorboards, completely unidentifiable to the naked eye.
"Ethan, please," Victoria wept, reaching out to clutch his pant leg. "Call the police. She’s mentally ill. She’s going to hurt Leo! She’s projecting her own madness onto me!"
Ethan looked down at Victoria, then looked at Sarah. His eyes were no longer just conflicted—they were terrified. He was a father trying to protect his six-month-old child, surrounded by chaos in his own home.
"Sarah," Ethan said, his voice dropping into a cold, broken whisper. "Give me your keys."
Sarah froze. "Mr. Ethan..."
"Give me the house keys, Sarah," Ethan repeated, his tone firm, unyielding, and final. "You need to leave."
"You are making a fatal mistake, sir," Sarah whispered, tears finally welling up in her eyes—not from fear, but from raw, agonizing frustration for the helpless baby sleeping upstairs. "She is going to kill your son."
"GET OUT!" Ethan roared, his voice booming off the stainless-steel walls.
Sarah stood frozen for three seconds. Then, with shaking fingers, she pulled the brass ring of estate keys from her apron pocket and set them down on the counter.
She turned and walked out of the kitchen, her head held high, stepping through the foyer out into the cold, foggy rain without taking her coat.
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Victoria sat on the floor, hiding her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with fake sobs. But beneath her manicured fingers, a victorious, wicked grin spread across her face.
The maid was gone. The path was clear.
