“Yes, ma’am.”
Katherine released her.
Then pulled Monica’s cheap decoy phone from her apron.
“Who have you been calling?”
“No one.”
Katherine dropped it onto the floor.
And crushed it beneath her heel.
“No calls.”
Another step.
“No messages.”
She smiled.
“And tonight your door gets locked.”
Katherine walked away.
Monica remained kneeling beside the broken glass.
Ruth was crying silently.
Not because she was shocked.
Because she had seen it before.
At exactly nine o’clock, Monica heard the lock slide outside her basement door.
She sat on the bed.
Touched the swelling on her cheek.
Then checked the hidden camera.
Still functioning.
It had recorded everything.
The slap.
The threat.
The destroyed phone.
Ruth’s expression.
Katherine saying:
You’ll disappear exactly like the others.
Monica exhaled slowly.
Katherine believed she had frightened a powerless maid.
Instead she had just threatened a Pulitzer-winning investigative journalist on camera during a federal trafficking investigation.
