“There’s something in your drink—the black girl whispered to the billionaire. The man’s hair stood on end when he found out what was there
Gave us juice that made us sleepy. I learned how to pretend to drink and hide the cups in my hoodie. He didn’t speak right away.
Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small scrap of folded paper. I found this under the baseboard in the hallway closet. Looked like it had been tucked behind a photo frame.
Maya took it carefully. The paper was worn. The ink faded.
Symbols, like a code or puzzle, were arranged in neat rows. She studied it. It’s binary, she said.
Sort of. Cyrus blinked. You can read that? Maya gave a slight shrug.
I’ve seen stuff like it before. One of the foster dads was into online games with encryption mods. He didn’t think I was paying attention.
Her fingers moved across her tablet, opening a translation app. See this part? It’s a MAC address. That’s a device.
Not yours, Cyrus leaned in. So someone hid this. Behind the frame.
Probably dropped it, Maya guessed. Or maybe forgot it was there. Just then, Margo entered the room.
She was tall, elegant even in her 60s, and moved with the quiet efficiency of someone who’d kept households running for decades. She looked between them, noting the paper in Maya’s hand. What’s this? We think it’s a device ID, Cyrus said.
Not one of mine. Margo raised a brow. I clean that hallway every Tuesday.
Never noticed anything unusual. That’s kind of the point, Maya said without looking up. Whoever did this didn’t want anyone to notice.
Um. Margo gave her a long, assessing look. Then she nodded and turned to Cyrus.
I’ve been meaning to mention something strange. Yesterday morning, I came in early and saw Miss Vanessa in the study. She said she couldn’t sleep.
But she wasn’t near the books. She was by your desk, Cyrus straightened. Doing what? She said she was looking for that magazine article about your company.
The one in Forbes. But I didn’t see it out. And she looked, startled when I walked in.
And that detail struck him like a match to dry tinder. He remembered now the magazine was on his nightstand. He never left it in the office.
Maya slowly stood. I think she’s been watching you, Cyrus rubbed his jaw. You really think she’s spying on me? For who? Maya tilted her head.
I don’t know. But if she’s sending your files out, she’s not keeping them. Cyrus turned toward Margo.
How long have you worked for this family? 32 years, she said, lifting her chin. Then you know this house better than anyone. Margo nodded once.
I need you to help me look, he said. For anything strange. Devices that don’t belong.
Anything moved. And I need it quiet. Margo didn’t hesitate.
Understood. Maya stepped closer. I can help too.
Cyrus hesitated, then looked at her tablet. Her quick mind. The way she’d seen things he’d missed.
All right, he said. But no risks. We’re careful.
Careful’s my default, she said softly. That afternoon, the three of them began a quiet sweep of the house. Cyrus checked the official network logs.
Maya scanned for rogue signals. Margo used her long memory of every object in every room to spot anything new or out of place. It was Maya who found the first real clue.
In the guest room, Vanessa’s favorite for overnight guests, Maya stood by the marble vase Vanessa had given Cyrus as a birthday gift. It was ornate. Not quite his taste.
But he’d kept it because she’d been so enthusiastic about it. There’s something buzzing near here, Maya said, holding her tablet close. It’s faint, but it’s on…