Chapter 2

The private jet cut through the sky, but not fast enough. Each minute felt like an hour. I landed and went straight to AuraNova’s NYC headquarters. The receptionist, new and flustered, tried to stop me. "Ma'am, do you have an appointment?" I didn't break stride. "I own the building." I walked into Rick’s office – my office. He was on the phone, laughing, feet up on my desk. He saw me and his face went pale. "Eleanor! What are you doing here? You should be resting." "The party, Rick. Who is Ashley Hoskins? And why was she wearing Chloe’s gown?" He tried to look confused. "Ashley? Oh, Brenda’s daughter. A sweet girl. Chloe lent her the dress. You know Chloe, so generous. She’s been a bit… difficult lately. Moody." Lies. Chloe was the least difficult child. "Brenda Hoskins? The woman I fired for gross incompetence?" Rick shifted in his chair. "People change, Eleanor. She's been a great help as interim COO." "My access to all company and personal high-limit accounts, Rick. I want a full report on every transaction since my… accident." He stood up, blustering. "Now, Eleanor, there's no need for that. Everything is under control." "Freeze them, Rick. Or I’ll have my lawyers do it, and they’ll be far less discreet." His eyes narrowed. He knew I meant it. I left him sputtering and drove to the Connecticut estate. The house felt wrong, tainted. I found Chloe in her room, or what used to be her room. It was now stark, almost empty. She was sitting on the bed, staring at nothing. She was heavier, her skin broken out with severe acne I’d never seen on her. And there were bruises on her arms, faint yellow and purple. "Chloe, honey, what happened to you?" She flinched when I touched her. "Mom? You're back?" Her voice was a whisper. "The bruises, Chloe. Tell me." "I... I'm just clumsy, Mom. Tripping over things." I didn't believe her. Not for a second. Suddenly, the door to my master suite, across the hall, burst open. The girl from the Instagram post, Ashley, stood there. "What are you doing in her room? And who are you?" she demanded, pointing at me. Then she turned to Chloe. "Get out of my parents' room, freak. And tell your grandma to make me a smoothie." My parents' room? Before I could speak, Mrs. Peterson hurried in. "Ashley, dear, let me get that for you. Chloe, come along." She held out a glass filled with a thick, greenish liquid to Chloe. "Here’s your calming smoothie, dear. Drink it up." Chloe shrank back, her eyes wide with fear. "No. No, thank you, Grandma." The fear in Chloe’s voice was raw. I stepped forward. "I'll take that, Mrs. Peterson." I took the glass. The smell was faintly sweet, but something else too, something chemical. "Ava," I said into my phone, my loyal executive assistant on the line. "I need this smoothie tested immediately. And I need all deleted security footage from the house servers for the past two months. Every last file." I looked at Mrs. Peterson. Her face was a mask of false concern. Ashley just looked annoyed. This was far worse than I imagined.