At my billionaire employer’s engagement dinner, his six-year-old daughter crawled under a table, dug her tiny fingers into my wrist, and whispered the first words she had spoken in eleven months: “Please don’t let Daddy marry her.” Then she unfolded a crayon drawing—and I saw his fiancée standing beside her mother’s hospital bed.

As I hurried down the back staircase to meet Marcus, a small, warm hand suddenly grabbed mine from the shadows of the second-floor landing.

I gasped, spinning around, my hand instinctively reaching to cover my mouth.

It was Sophie.

She was dressed in a beautiful, stiff white lace dress, looking like a silent doll. Her eyes, wide and filled with an intelligence far beyond her six years, locked onto mine. She didn't scream. She didn't cry. She simply reached up and touched my dyed hair, a tiny smile playing on her lips.

"Lily," she whispered, her voice barely a breath, but clearer than before.

"Sophie, sweetie," I knelt down, tears stinging my eyes as I wrapped my arms around her small frame. "I'm here. I promise I'm here. But I have to go quickly so I can help you, okay? I need to show everyone what she did."

Sophie shook her head fiercely, pulling a small, crumpled piece of paper from her pocket. She pressed it into my hand. It was another drawing, but this one was different. It showed a medicine bottle with a skull and crossbones, and a hand pouring it into a glass of water.

Beside the glass was a schedule—the exact medication schedule I used to administer to Helena.

"She changed the medicine," Sophie whispered, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I saw her. In the kitchen. She put the white powder in Mommy's bottle."

My heart stopped. It wasn't just that Vanessa had been in the room when Helena died; she had actively poisoned her over weeks, slowly degrading her heart until the final dosage finished her off. And Sophie had witnessed it.

"Who are you talking to, Sophie?"

The cold, icy voice cut through the dim hallway like a scalpel.

I froze, slowly rising to my feet as Vanessa Hale stepped out of the shadows at the end of the corridor. Her green eyes locked onto me, scanning my catering uniform, then my face. Recognition flared in her eyes, followed by a cruel, triumphant sneer.

"Well, well. If it isn't the little charity case," Vanessa purred, stepping forward. "I knew you were stupid, Lily, but returning to the scene of the crime? Bold. Even for a girl from the gutters."

"You poisoned her," I said, my voice steady despite the terror clawing at my throat. I pushed Sophie gently behind my back. "You altered Helena’s medication. Sophie saw you. We have the proof."

Vanessa laughed, a high, mocking sound that chilled me to the bone. "A six-year-old’s drawing? Do you think any court in this country would take the word of a mute, traumatized child over mine? And as for you... you've bypassed security, dressed as an impostor, and trespassed on private property. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be locked away in a state penitentiary where no one will ever hear your voice again."

She reached into her evening bag, pulling out a small, sleek silver pistol.

"You think you're the first person who tried to stand in my way?" Vanessa whispered, her eyes flashing with a terrifying madness. "Helena was weak. She was holding Grant back, holding this company back. I gave her a peaceful way out. And now, I’m going to give you an eviction notice."

She raised the gun, aiming it directly at my chest.