“Tell me,” she said gently. “Start wherever you can.”
In that gentle moment, the housekeeper broke. Relief swarming through her expression. Yet, in one harsh breath her sobs transformed from fear to release. How long had this woman been living under their iron thumb?
“We’ve got her,” I murmured quietly to Bones and Voodoo. “Gracie’s got her.”
Bones didn’t look away from Grace.
“I know.” His voice was almost too soft to catch. “Let her lead.”
Grace took a slow breath, squared her shoulders, and spoke again, steady, sure, and in control.
“Tell me everything.”
Chapter
Five
GRACE
“Can you tell me your name?” I asked after her sobs dwindled into soft, shaky breaths. The tile floor was cold against my knees, but I didn’t move.
“Hannah,” she said, still weepy. “Hannah Torres.”
I held her bound hand between mine, repeating silently that she wasn’t the one who should have been tied up today. But she was the one caught in the middle of something bigger and uglier than she’d ever wanted to see.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “You’re safe here.”
Her breath hitched again. “Mi familia… mis hijos… por favor…”
“Don’t worry,” I assured her in a soft voice. “No one is going to hurt your family. I promise.” Maybe I shouldn’t make that oath, but Bones gave me point and no one disagreed with me earlier. “I need to hear it from you… tell us what you’re afraid of.”
Her head tilted toward my voice, even though the blindfold hid us from her. “They will hurt my children,” she breathed. “If I talk. If I say anything wrong?—”
“Who?” My voice didn’t shake, even though something deep inside me recoiled at the familiarity of that kind of fear.
“I don’t know their names,” she whispered. “But they come here. Not through the front door.” Her shoulders curled inward. “Never the front door.”
I glanced back at Alphabet, who gave me the smallest nod. Yes—okay that matched what we knew so far.
“Do they have a key?” I asked.
“No.” A breath. “There is a door. It was always locked before.Siempre.But after the Señora left…” Her voice tightened. “He told me not to go near it.”
I smoothed my thumb over the back of her hand. “Hannah, when you say the Señora, you mean Mrs. Sinclair?”
“Yes.” A soft choke. “She was kind. She… she helped me when my husband had his accident. She made sure we had insurance. She let me bring the children to the pool when she was home.” Her voice wavered, a thready mixture of grief and guilt. “When she left on her trip, he said we couldn’t stay in the cottage anymore. That I should only come twice a week and leave before dark.”
Behind me, Bones shifted. A quiet, contained sound. Not approval.
“And you listened,” I said gently. “Because you’re doing what you need to do for your family.”
A tiny nod.
“I asked if we could stay,” she whispered. “I begged. But he said no. He said… I knew too much already.”
Every hair on my arms lifted.
Under the blindfold, tears leaked down her cheeks.
