Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN UPSTAIRS.
The ambulance arrived nine minutes later.
Margaret objected to it.
Not loudly.
She didn’t need to raise her voice.
“An ambulance at the front entrance will create unnecessary attention,” she told Mark.
Elena was sitting on the sofa now with a folded towel pressed against her side.
Mark looked at his mother.
“She’s bleeding.”
“I am aware.”
“Then I’m struggling to understand the concern.”
“The concern is privacy.”
“Whose?”
Margaret didn’t answer.
That was becoming a pattern.
Elena tried to intervene.
“I can take a rideshare.”
“No,” Mark said.
“I’ve done it before.”
The sentence slipped out.
Mark turned.
“What do you mean, before?”
Elena immediately looked away.
Paramedics entered through the front door.
Dana Price, the estate’s house manager, appeared from the hallway at the same moment.
She froze.
Dana was fifty-four and had worked for the Callahans for almost eighteen years. She was the person who knew where every spare key was kept, which florist Margaret hated, how Mark took his coffee and which guest room had a window that stuck in January.
She was also the person Elena looked at before allowing the paramedic to help her stand.
Mark noticed.
Dana noticed him noticing.
“You should go with them,” Mark told Elena.
She nodded.
One paramedic asked whether she knew approximately how far along she was.
“Seven weeks,” Elena said.
Mark glanced at the pregnancy test still sitting on the coffee table.
Seven weeks.
Margaret looked toward the staircase.
“Mark, we have guests arriving.”
He almost laughed.
“Cancel them.”
“They’re not my guests.”
“I don’t care.”
“They’re here for Charlotte.”
That name shifted the room.
Charlotte Callahan was Mark’s younger sister.
Thirty-five years old.
Married to a cardiologist.
Pregnant with her second child.
And currently staying in the east wing of the estate because contractors were renovating the nursery in her own four-bedroom house twelve minutes away.
For the last month, the mansion had quietly reorganized itself around Charlotte’s pregnancy.
A chef prepared separate meals because certain smells bothered her.
A driver took her to appointments.
Margaret had ordered new mattresses because Charlotte said the guest mattress hurt her back.
A temporary stair runner had been installed because somebody mentioned slipping.
Mark had considered all of that normal.
Now Elena stood in the same house with blood on her uniform.
She had been told to finish changing beds.
Something cold settled behind his ribs.
The paramedics guided Elena toward the door.
She hesitated.
“Mr. Callahan?”
“Mark.”
She looked uncomfortable using his first name.
“The paper.”
“I have it.”
“Don’t leave it here.”
Margaret’s face tightened.
Mark slipped the folded document into his suit jacket.
“I won’t.”
Elena left.
Mark watched until the ambulance doors closed.
Then he turned around.
His mother was already walking back inside.
“Stop.”
Margaret continued.
“Mom.”
She stopped.
Dana stood several feet away, pretending to check something on her tablet.
“Everybody else out,” Mark said.
Dana looked at Margaret.
Not Mark.
That told him more than he wanted to know.
“Dana,” he said.
“Yes?”
“Give us the room.”
Margaret spoke first.
“Dana stays.”
Mark studied his mother.
“No. She doesn’t.”
Dana quietly left.
Mark waited until the door shut.
“What is the second page?”
Margaret walked to the sofa and picked up the pregnancy test using a tissue.
“Honestly.”
“Put that down.”
“This should never have been left here.”
“She was bleeding.”
“You keep repeating that as though I caused it.”
Mark stopped.
He had not said that.
Neither had Elena.
“Interesting.”
Margaret looked at him.
“What?”
“I asked what happened. You answered whether you caused it.”
“For God’s sake.”
“What’s on the second page?”
“A routine staffing recommendation.”
“Then show it to me.”
“You don’t need to involve yourself.”
“I own the company that employs her.”
“You own several companies. You don’t approve linen schedules.”
“Apparently I should.”
Margaret placed the pregnancy test on the table.
“You are reacting emotionally.”
“Yes.”
“That is rarely useful.”
“A woman employed by this family asked for medical care, signed something she says she didn’t request, continued working and ended up bleeding on our living room floor.”
Margaret’s expression hardened.
“Do not make that sentence more dramatic than the facts.”
“Which fact did I get wrong?”
“She was not forced to work.”
“Then why was she terrified to leave?”
Margaret didn’t answer directly.
“Household employees understand the expectations of household employment.”
Mark laughed once.
There it was.
Not cruelty.
Not in Margaret’s mind.
Standards.
Expectations.
Words wealthy people loved because they made power sound like housekeeping.
“Where’s the second page?”
“I don’t have it.”
“Who does?”
“You should ask Dana.”
“I will.”
Margaret walked toward the window.
Outside, three men from the landscaping crew were repairing an irrigation line.
“Charlotte’s luncheon was scheduled weeks ago,” she said.
Mark stared at her.
“What does Charlotte have to do with Elena?”
“She doesn’t.”
“Then why bring her up?”
“Because thirty people are arriving in less than an hour.”
“So?”
“So the house needed to be prepared.”
Mark understood before she finished.
“You kept Elena working because Charlotte had guests.”
“Nobody kept anyone.”
“She asked for medical care.”
“She asked to leave.”
“And?”
“We were short-staffed.”
Mark stared at her.
She continued as though discussing a catering invoice.
“Two employees called out. One of the temporary cleaners was late. The west rooms were unfinished. Elena said she could continue until coverage arrived.”
Mark took out the folded leave form.
“She says she was afraid she’d lose her job.”
“That is her interpretation.”
“Did anyone tell her her housing could be affected?”
“It’s in the agreement.”
“You gave a frightened pregnant employee a document saying her apartment and benefits might disappear.”
“The form is standardized.”
“Who handed it to her?”
Margaret turned toward him.
“I’m not discussing personnel details in a hallway.”
“We’re in the living room.”
“Then I’m not discussing them in the living room.”
Mark almost admired the absurdity.
Almost.
The elevator at the far end of the hall chimed.
Charlotte appeared.
She wore cream maternity pants, a loose blue sweater and slippers that probably cost more than Elena earned in two shifts.
One hand rested on her stomach.
“What happened?”
Margaret smiled immediately.
Nothing warm had entered her face when Elena was bleeding.
Now warmth arrived like a light switching on.
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
Charlotte looked at Mark.
“Why was there an ambulance?”
“One of the staff needed medical help.”
Charlotte’s expression changed.
“Who?”
Margaret said, “Elena had a minor issue.”
Mark looked at his mother.
“A minor issue?”
Charlotte frowned.
“Is she okay?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Margaret interrupted.
“She’ll be fine.”
“You don’t know that,” Mark said.
Charlotte looked between them.
“Wait. Elena?”
“Yes.”
“She was in my room this morning.”
Mark turned.
“What?”
“She changed the sheets.”
Margaret looked annoyed.
“Charlotte—”
“What?”
Mark stepped closer.
“What time?”
“I don’t know. Maybe nine?”
Elena had signed the leave form at 8:42.
“Did she seem okay?”
Charlotte thought.
“No.”
Margaret’s mouth tightened.
“What did you see?”
“She dropped one of the pillowcases.”
“That’s it?”
“No.”
Charlotte looked confused now, remembering.
“She kept holding her side.”
Mark said nothing.
“And I asked if she needed to sit down.”
“What did she say?”
Charlotte looked at their mother.
“She said she wasn’t allowed.”
Margaret responded immediately.
“That is not what she meant.”
Charlotte turned.
“You weren’t there.”
“Yes, I was.”
The room went still.
Mark looked at Margaret.
“You were in Charlotte’s room?”
“For part of the morning.”
Charlotte slowly lowered her hand from her stomach.
“Mom…”
Margaret’s expression told her to stop.
Charlotte ignored it.
“Elena asked you if she could go home.”
Mark felt the story rearrange itself.
“What did Mom say?”
Charlotte hesitated.
“Charlotte.”
His sister looked sick.
“She said the guests were coming and everybody had responsibilities.”
Margaret stepped forward.
“That is a grotesque simplification.”
“It’s what you said.”
“I also told Dana to find coverage.”
“After Elena asked twice.”
Margaret’s face hardened.
Mark asked, “Twice?”
Charlotte nodded.
“The second time…”
She stopped.
“What?”
Charlotte looked toward the coffee table.
The pregnancy test.
Her face lost color.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“She told Mom.”
Mark didn’t move.
“Told her what?”
“That she was pregnant.”
Margaret shut her eyes for half a second.
Charlotte’s voice became quieter.
“She showed her the test.”
Mark looked at his mother.
“You knew.”
Margaret’s answer came carefully.
“I knew what Elena claimed.”
“Claimed?”
“A home pregnancy test is not a medical diagnosis.”
Charlotte actually recoiled.
Mark had heard enough.
He took out his phone and called his assistant.
“Cancel every meeting I have today.”
Margaret turned.
“Mark.”
He walked toward the office.
Then Charlotte spoke.
“There’s something else.”
He stopped.
Charlotte was staring at the leave paper protruding from his jacket.
“I saw Dana carrying another form downstairs.”
“What form?”
“I don’t know.”
“When?”
“Right after Mom left my room.”
Margaret said, “Charlotte, that is enough.”
Charlotte ignored her.
“She was upset.”
“Dana?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
Charlotte looked directly at Mark.
“She said, ‘I’m not signing that.’”
Mark’s eyes moved to Margaret.
His mother’s face had gone completely still.
Mark asked, “Signing what?”
Charlotte shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Mark turned toward the hall where Dana had disappeared.
Then his phone rang.
It was the hospital.
He answered immediately.
“This is Mark Callahan.”
A nurse spoke.
Mark listened.
Elena was stable.
The pregnancy was still viable.
The bleeding needed evaluation, rest and follow-up, but the immediate news was better than the nightmare Mark had imagined.
He closed his eyes.
“Thank you.”
Then the nurse said something else.
Mark opened them.
“What?”
The nurse repeated it.
Elena had asked the hospital not to release any further information to representatives of Callahan Estate Services.
Not even human resources.
Mark understood why.
Before hanging up, the nurse added one final detail.
Elena had arrived carrying a photograph of a document on her phone.
A document she said her employer had tried to take away.
Mark ended the call.
Margaret was watching him.
“What is it?”
Mark slipped his phone into his pocket.
May you like
“Elena has the second page.”
For the first time all morning, Margaret Callahan looked afraid.
