Chapter 3 - The Housekeeper Behind the MansionThe next morning, Corbin watched Lianna differently.
Not suspiciously.
Carefully.
He noticed things he had ignored before.
Her shoes were worn along the edges.
She packed leftovers from home instead of buying lunch.
When she believed nobody was watching, she checked photographs of Austin on her phone.
One showed a smiling baby sitting inside a laundry basket.
Another showed him sleeping beneath a faded blue blanket.
Corbin felt ashamed.
He had been thinking about Daniel Prescott as a mystery.
For Lianna, Daniel had been a husband.
Austin's father.
A man she had buried.
That afternoon, Corbin called her into his study.
Lianna immediately looked worried.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No.”
He gestured toward a chair.
She remained standing.
Corbin decided against mentioning Daniel.
Instead he said, “I'm adjusting compensation for the household staff.”
Her expression changed.
“You don't have to—”
“I should have done it months ago.”
“Mr. Stanford—”
“Corbin.”
She looked uncomfortable.
He understood.
Money from a wealthy employer could easily feel like charity.
So he kept his tone professional.
“You've been doing work that would normally require two employees. Your compensation should reflect that.”
Lianna hesitated.
Then quietly said, “Thank you.”
Her eyes became wet.
She immediately looked away.
That single reaction told Corbin how close to the edge she had been living.
But before leaving, Lianna paused at the doorway.
“Mr. Stanford?”
“Yes?”
“Did my husband ever work for your family?”
Corbin froze.
Lianna slowly turned around.
“Because yesterday evening, someone called my mother asking questions about Daniel.”
Corbin stood.
“Who?”
“They wouldn't give a name.”
“What did they ask?”
“Whether Daniel left me any documents.”
The room suddenly seemed colder.
“Did he?”
Lianna stared at him.
Corbin saw the answer before she spoke.
“I don't know.”
That wasn't true.
But Corbin didn't challenge her.
“Lianna, if anyone contacts you again, call me.”
“Why?”
Because my family may have been hiding something about your husband's death.
He couldn't say it.
Not yet.
“I just want to make sure you're safe.”
Lianna's face tightened.
“I've been keeping myself safe for four years.”
Then she left.
That evening, Corbin made a decision he knew crossed a boundary.
He followed Lianna home.
Not because he wanted to spy on her.
He had purchased formula, diapers, groceries, and a prepaid grocery card.
His plan was simple.
Leave everything anonymously outside her apartment.
Then disappear.
Lianna lived in an aging three-story building in Pawtucket.
Corbin parked across the street.
He waited until her lights came on.
Then another vehicle arrived.
A black Lincoln.
Corbin recognized it instantly.
Harrison Cole.
The Stanford family's attorney.
Harrison stepped from the vehicle carrying a leather briefcase.
He walked directly toward Lianna's building.
Corbin's stomach tightened.
Minutes later, through the illuminated second-floor window, Corbin saw Harrison standing inside Lianna's apartment.
Lianna disappeared briefly.
When she returned...
she was holding something.
A faded blue envelope.
Even from across the street, Corbin recognized Harrison's reaction.
The old attorney staggered backward.
Then Harrison looked toward the window.
Toward the street.
Toward Corbin's parked car.
Their eyes met.
Harrison's face went pale.
And Corbin finally understood.
May you like
The envelope his father had warned him about wasn't lost.
Daniel Prescott's widow had kept it for four years.
Related Stories
