Chapter 1 - A Hand in the Window
The little hand slapped the washing machine window from the inside.
Lena Brooks dropped her basket of towels. For one impossible second, she thought she'd seen a reflection. Then a small face appeared behind the round glass, and six-year-old Ellie Whitlock opened her mouth in a soundless scream.
“Oh, my God. Ellie!”
The mansion's industrial washer was dark and silent. A wide blue shipping strap held its door shut. Lena grabbed the laundry shears from a shelf and cut until the strap snapped. She yanked the door open and caught the child as she tumbled forward.
Ellie was cold. Her hair stuck to her forehead. She tried to speak, but only a dry little cough came out.
“I've got you,” Lena whispered, wrapping her in a clean towel. “You're out. I've got you.”
She dialed 911 with one shaking hand, then called Ellie's father with the other.
Graham Whitlock answered from his Manhattan office. “Lena, I'm in a meeting.”
“Sir, come home now! Your daughter was inside the washing machine!”
There was a chair scraping on his end. “What?”
“She's breathing. The ambulance is coming. Please hurry.”
Lena carried Ellie into the hall, away from the machine. The girl clung to her neck so tightly it hurt.
Twenty-three minutes later, Graham came through the front doors without his coat. His face crumpled when he saw his daughter bundled in the paramedic's blanket.
“Ellie? Sweetheart, look at me.”
She flinched when he reached for her.
That hurt him more than anything she'd said.
He turned toward the grand staircase. “VICTORIA!” His shout shook the chandeliers. “GET DOWN HERE!”
Upstairs, Victoria Whitlock had been sleeping beneath a silk comforter. She jolted awake at the sound of his voice, knocked a glass from her nightstand, and stared at the bedroom door as though she'd been expecting a different visitor.
May you like
Downstairs, Ellie finally managed a whisper against Lena's shoulder.
“Don't let her tell Daddy I did it to myself.”
