The phone started ringing just as morning light slipped through the curtains.
For a moment, I lay still, listening to the sound, feeling that strange heaviness that had followed me into sleep. My body was tired, but my mind was already awake, restless, uneasy, like it had been standing guard all night.
I reached for the phone.
Unknown number.
My heart tightened before I even answered.
"Hello?" My voice came out soft, careful.
"Jade."
I sat up immediately.
"Damien?"
His voice was low, restrained. The kind of calm that didn't mean peace, it meant something was being held back.
"Yes. I had to call you as soon as I could."
A cold weight settled in my chest.
"What happened?"
There was a brief pause on the line. I could hear distant echoes in the background, the controlled emptiness of a prison corridor.
"It's Paquito," Damien said. "He told me something last night. Something he's been carrying for a long time."
My fingers curled around the phone.
"What did he say?"
Damien exhaled slowly. "He said he wasn't the only one who knew what happened that night."
The words sent a ripple of tension through me.
"He said there was someone else in the mansion," Damien continued. "Not just a witness. Someone who was… involved."
My breath caught. "Who?"
"A maid," he said. "A senior one. One of the staff who had full access to the house."
My heart began to beat harder.
"What kind of involved?" I asked quietly.
"She helped them," Damien said. "The people who carried out the murder. She gave them information, about the cameras, about which areas weren't monitored, about how to move through the house without being seen. And after it was done, she cleaned."
My stomach turned.
"She made sure there were no traces left behind," he added. "She knew what she was doing. She wasn't frightened. She wasn't confused. She knew exactly what was happening."
I pressed my free hand against the bed.
"And Paquito?" I whispered.
"He saw too much," Damien said. "He realized she wasn't just staff. He overheard conversations. Saw things that didn't add up. That's why they framed him. That's why he's here. He became a liability."
My throat tightened painfully.
"Did he tell you her name?" I asked.
There was another pause.
"Yes," Damien said. "He said her name was Nancy."
The room seemed to go very still.
Nancy.
The sound of the name echoed inside me.
A maid.
Involved.
Helped them.
Cleaned the crime.
Knew who the murderers were.
Ran away afterward.
My mind immediately reached for one person.
The woman in my house.
The one who had appeared so suddenly.
The one who watched too carefully.
The one whose stories never fully settled.
"Jade," Damien said, his voice sharpening. "You need to be careful. Paquito believes she didn't disappear. He thinks she's still out there. Still working for the same people."
My heartbeat thundered in my ears.
"Do you know what she looks like?" I asked.
"No," Damien said. "Paquito never saw her face clearly enough. Only knew her name. And that she was trusted inside that house."
A slow chill crawled up my spine.
"Damien," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. "We… we have a maid here. She came recently. She said her name is Brittany. But nothing about her ever felt right. Her stories don't add up. Her movements… the way she watches us…"
There was silence on the line.
Then: "Jade… do not assume anything yet. But do not ignore your instincts either. If there's even a chance it's the same person,"
"I know," I whispered.
"You need to find out who she really is," he said. "Quietly. Don't confront her. If she is Nancy, then she's not just a threat to the truth. She's dangerous."
I closed my eyes.
"Thank you for telling me," I said.
"I couldn't keep this from you," Damien replied. "Whatever she's planning, whatever she's still involved in, it hasn't ended. Be careful."
The call ended.
But the words remained.
Nancy.
The name clung to my thoughts like a shadow.
I sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, staring at the wall, replaying everything I had ever noticed about Brittany.
The way she had known the layout of the house too quickly.
The way she had never seemed lost, never unsure.
The way her eyes always lingered just a second too long.
The way her stories about her past shifted subtly each time.
And then something else surfaced in my memory.
Mrs. Alexander.
The way Brittany had spoken about her.
The familiarity in her tone.
The strange connection that never made sense to me.
If there was one person who might know who Brittany really was, it was her.
But I also knew something else.
If Mrs. Alexander was involved, if she truly was connected to Brittany, then she could not know that I was investigating.
If she found out, Brittany would disappear again.
I needed answers before that happened.
I moved quickly, quietly. In the kitchen, I gathered a few cookies and pastries from the counter, arranged them neatly in a small bowl, just enough to look thoughtful, just enough to appear harmless.
A neighbor's gesture.
Nothing more.
Through the front window, I saw Mrs. Alexander's car pulling out of her driveway.
My pulse quickened.
She was leaving.
This was my chance.
I waited until the car disappeared from the road. Only then did I step outside.
Her mansion was close, so close that I could walk there in minutes. The path between our houses curved gently through the estate, lined with trimmed hedges and silent elegance. Everything looked peaceful.
Deceptively so.
With each step, my thoughts circled back to Damien's voice.
A maid.
Nancy.
Still working for them.
Still planning something.
I reached Mrs. Alexander's door and knocked.
Footsteps approached.
The door opened.
A woman stood before me in a neat uniform. The maid.
"Yes, madam?" she asked politely.
"Good morning," I said with a gentle smile. "I came to see Mrs. Alexander."
"She just left not long ago," the maid replied. "I'm sorry."
I let disappointment soften my expression.
"Oh… that's unfortunate. I wanted to bring her something. My maid made some cookies and pastries for her."
The maid glanced at the bowl in my hands.
"Your maid?" she repeated.
"Yes," I said lightly. "She thought Mrs. Alexander might enjoy them."
The maid hesitated for a moment, then said, "You mean… Nancy?"
The word struck me like a physical blow.
Nancy.
My breath caught for half a second, but I didn't let it show.
"Yes," I replied smoothly. "Nancy."
The maid nodded, completely unaware of the earthquake she had just caused inside me.
"I'll let Mrs. Alexander know when she returns."
"Thank you," I said.
I turned away slowly, my heart hammering so hard it felt as though it might tear through my chest.
Nancy.
Not Brittany.
Nancy.
The same name Damien had just told me.
The same maid Paquito had described.
The woman who had been present the night Amanda's sister was murdered.
The woman who had helped them clean, erase, escape.
The woman who had disappeared.
And then reappeared…
In my house.
I didn't walk.
I ran.
Back through the quiet estate, back to my mansion, my mind racing faster than my feet.
When I pushed through the door, I called out instinctively.
"Brittany?"
No answer.
The house felt wrong. Too still.
I searched the living room.
The kitchen.
The hallway.
Her room.
Empty.
Her bag was gone.
Her belongings, vanished.
She had left.
No warning.
No explanation.
As if she had known.
As if the moment Mrs. Alexander drove away, she understood that time was up.
I went straight upstairs.
"Amanda," I said, entering her room.
She looked up immediately. "Jade? What's wrong?"
"She's gone," I said. "She's not in the house."
Amanda sat up. "Who?"
"Brittany. But that's not her name."
Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
I crossed the room and took her hands.
"Damien called me this morning," I said. "Paquito told him something. About the night your sister was killed."
Amanda went completely still.
"He said there was a maid in the house that night," I continued. "Not just a witness. Someone who helped the killers. Someone who cleaned everything afterward so there wouldn't be any trace. Someone who knew who they were."
Amanda's breath shook.
"He said her name was Nancy," I whispered. "I just went to Mrs. Alexander's house. Her maid referred to Brittany as Nancy. That is her real name. She changed her identity to work here."
Amanda stared at me, disbelief and horror battling in her eyes.
"No… no, that can't be…"
"It is," I said. "She worked in your sister's house before. She was there the night everything happened. She helped them. And when Paquito realized what she was, they framed him to silence him."
Amanda's knees buckled slightly. I caught her just in time.
"She was here," Amanda whispered. "In my house… after everything…"
"She was watching us," I said. "Listening. Reporting."
Amanda's face twisted with pain and fury.
"She knew," she said hoarsely. "She knew who I was. She knew what she had done to my family. And she looked at me every day."
I tightened my grip on her hands.
"We need to find her," I said. "Now."
Amanda nodded, already reaching for her phone.
"Pepe," she said when he answered. "Track Brittany. Immediately. Every call. Every movement."
She ended the call and looked at me.
"He's on it."
We stood there in silence, the truth heavy between us.
Then Amanda's phone vibrated.
She looked down at the screen.
Her face changed.
"What is it?" I asked.
"She's been located," Amanda said quietly.
My heart began to pound.
"Where is she?"
Amanda lifted her eyes to mine.
"She's going to the prison."
The words crashed into me like a wave of ice.
The prison.
Where Damien was.
Where Paquito was.
Where the truth was finally beginning to surface.
I felt the room spin slightly.
"She knows they're talking," I whispered. "She knows Paquito told Damien everything."
Amanda nodded slowly. "Which means she's trying to stop whatever comes next."
I closed my eyes, fear tightening around my chest.
"She can't hurt anyone there," Amanda said, trying to calm me. "It's too secure. But she can talk. She can pass information. She can warn someone."
I opened my eyes.
"She isn't running," I said. "She's moving."
Amanda met my gaze.
"Yes," she said. "And whatever she's about to do in that prison… it isn't small."
I stood there, my thoughts spiraling, one truth echoing louder than the rest.
Nancy had never come into my life by accident.
And now, she was walking straight into the place where everything could either be exposed…
Or buried forever.