I didn't wait for the guards to move. I turned and sprinted toward the stairs, my mind a whirlwind of calculations.
I reached my father's private study—a place I usually avoided like the plague—knowing he was currently in a council meeting. I needed the secure landline, the one Julian couldn't tap.
I slammed the door and punched in Austin's encrypted number. It rang once before he picked up.
"Sire? I'm still at the foster home. The parents are… difficult. They're demanding more credits and—"
"Forget the parents for a second, Austin," I hissed, leaning over the mahogany desk. "I found her. Or at least, I found the hand that held the blade."
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. "Who?"
"A maid from the South Wing. She used the service tunnels at 3:40 AM. She was in that room for twenty minutes. She left before the pronounced time of death," I explained, fists clenching on the device.
