Chapter 8: The Person Who Was Always There
Maya had worked in the Ashworth house for nine years.
She had been hired by Julian's first wife, Caroline, two years before Caroline's illness.
She had stayed through Caroline's d*ath, through the years Julian raised Leo alone, through the arrival of Eleanor.
She was fifty-four years old, had a daughter in university, and had never once, in nine years, given Julian any reason to question her.
Which was why, when Richard called at noon with the name, Julian sat with it for a long time before he moved.
The household document courier records showed that the package sent to Julian three months ago — the one containing the stack of papers he had signed while traveling — had been prepared by Maya.
Not unusual.
Maya handled household administration.
She had always prepared document packages.
But the records also showed that the package had been opened and resealed before dispatch.
The courier log noted a delay of forty minutes between preparation and collection.
Forty minutes was enough time to insert one additional page.
Julian found her in the laundry room.
She was folding linens with the same quiet efficiency she brought to everything.
She looked up when he came in.
She read his face immediately.
She set the sheet down.
"You know," she said.
"Tell me what happened."
Maya was quiet for a moment.
She pulled out the small stool near the folding table and sat down, as if her legs had made a decision her composure hadn't caught up with yet.
"She came to me eight months ago," Maya said.
"She told me she knew about the money I borrowed.
Four years ago.
From the household account.
My daughter's tuition.
I was short and I was frightened and I took two thousand pounds with the intention of returning it before the quarterly review." She looked at her hands.
"I did return it.
Every penny.
But Eleanor had found the transfer record."
Julian said nothing.
"She said she would tell you.
She said she would make sure I was prosecuted." Maya's voice was steady but thin.
"I have a daughter, Mr.
Ashworth.
I have no one else.
I couldn't—" She stopped.
"She only asked me to insert one page.
She said it was a household authorization.
She said you had already agreed to it verbally and the paperwork was a formality."
"You didn't read it."
"I told myself I didn't need to." A pause.
"I knew.
I think I knew.
But I was frightened."
Julian sat down across from her on the bench near the door.
"Maya.
The night Leo was pushed on the stairs.
You came forward.
You told me what you saw."
She looked up.
"Yes."
"You didn't have to do that.
Eleanor could have used that against you."
"I know." Her voice broke slightly on the second word.
"I watched that boy grow up in this house.
I was there when his mother d*ed.
I was not going to stand in a hallway and say nothing while she—" She pressed her lips together.
"I'm sorry, Mr.
Ashworth.
I am deeply sorry.
Whatever happens to me, I am sorry."
Julian was quiet for a long moment.
"You will give a full statement to Richard.
Everything.
The conversation with Eleanor, the document, the timeline.
All of it."
"Yes."
"That statement will be part of the formal complaint.
It will be used as evidence of how Eleanor operated in this house."
Maya nodded.
"And then," Julian said, "you will keep your position.
On the condition that if anything like this ever happens again — anything — you come to me first.
Immediately.
No matter what she has over you."
Maya stared at him.
"You came forward for Leo," Julian said.
"That matters more than you know." He stood.
"Call Richard's office.
Ask for his assistant.
Tell her Julian sent you."
He walked to the door.
Then he stopped.
"The two thousand pounds," he said without turning.
"Consider it a loan that's been forgiven."
May you like
He walked out.
Behind him, in the laundry room, the only sound was Maya pressing both hands flat against the folding table and breathing.
