Chapter 2 - Harlan Hired Me Because Belle Trusted Me—But on My First Day I Discovered Someone Inside His Mansion Had Been Lying About Her Heart ConditionHarlan Voss's house was not really a house.
It was a fortress designed by someone who had never heard the word modesty.
Black iron gates.
Stone walls.
Security towers.
Fountains.
Glass.
Steel.
More security cameras than I could count.
When I arrived, two guards searched my purse.
Another checked my identification.
A fourth inspected my car.
I almost turned around.
Then I thought of Belle.
So I stayed.
A woman named Mrs. Carter met me inside.
She was in her sixties.
Gray hair.
Perfect posture.
“You're Rue.”
“Yes.”
“She asked for you.”
“Where is she?”
“Sunroom.”
I followed.
Belle sat beneath a blanket.
The moment she saw me, she smiled.
“Rue.”
I sat beside her.
“Hey, superstar.”
“You came.”
“I did.”
“I told Daddy you would.”
I looked at Harlan.
He stood by the window.
“You're very confident.”
Belle smiled.
“I know you.”
Harlan looked at me.
“Your schedule.”
He handed me a folder.
Private caregiver.
Hours.
Salary.
Benefits.
The number made my eyes widen.
“No.”
He frowned.
“You haven't read the rest.”
“I read the salary.”
“What is wrong with it?”
“It's too much.”
“That's not a problem.”
“It is for me.”
“Why?”
“I don't want to owe you.”
He stared.
Then he said,
“You don't.”
Belle interrupted.
“Daddy.”
“Yes?”
“Can Rue stay?”
Harlan looked at me.
“Yes.”
Belle smiled.
That was how I started working for him.
I quickly discovered something strange.
Belle's medical routine was obsessive.
Medication.
Monitoring.
Diet.
Rest.
No stairs.
No running.
No stress.
But the doctors disagreed about how severe her condition actually was.
One physician said her condition was stable.
Another said it was deteriorating.
A third said surgery might be necessary.
I asked Harlan.
“What exactly does she have?”
He went quiet.
“A congenital heart defect.”
“What kind?”
He hesitated.
“Complex.”
That wasn't an answer.
Belle began avoiding the subject.
She hated doctors.
She hated hospitals.
She hated the machines.
One afternoon, I found her hiding beneath the dining table.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
I crouched.
“You're hiding.”
“No.”
“I can see your shoes.”
She smiled.
“Okay.”
I sat on the floor.
“What's wrong?”
“Dr. Keller says I need another test.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then we'll do it.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“He lies.”
I stopped.
“Who?”
“Dr. Keller.”
“Why?”
“He tells Daddy I'm worse.”
I stared.
“Why would he do that?”
She shrugged.
“I don't know.”
I told Harlan.
He looked unsettled.
“Children don't understand medical decisions.”
“Maybe.”
He looked at Belle.
“She has always been anxious.”
I nodded.
Then something else caught my attention.
Her medication bottles.
Two identical prescriptions.
Different labels.
Same dosage.
Different pharmacies.
I asked the medical team.
They said both were legitimate.
But one wasn't on Belle's official chart.
I brought it to Harlan.
He stared.
“I've never seen this.”
“Neither have I.”
He called his doctor.
The doctor looked surprised.
A pharmacy had filled the prescription under an old account.
Someone had access to Belle's information.
Someone had been altering records.
We investigated.
The account was tied to a security officer.
The officer disappeared before questioning.
Harlan's face became stone.
“Someone inside.”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
He looked at me.
“Why did you notice?”
“Because I refill medication.”
“You're a waitress.”
“Was.”
He almost smiled.
That night, Belle asked me something.
“Rue?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think my daddy is scary?”
I thought about it.
“Yes.”
She laughed.
“I do too.”
“But?”
“He's kind.”
I looked at her.
“You think so?”
She nodded.
“He cries when he thinks I don't see.”
My chest tightened.
“Your dad loves you.”
“I know.”
She paused.
“That's why someone wants to take me.”
I froze.
“Who?”
She looked toward the door.
“I don't know.”
“What makes you think that?”
“They talk.”
“Who?”
“Men.”
“What men?”
She whispered,
“They think I can't hear.”
I stared.
“What did they say?”
“Something about a test.”
“What test?”
She shook her head.
“Daddy will tell you.”
Before I could ask, she fell asleep.
I walked downstairs.
Harlan was in his office.
“Belle told me something.”
He looked up.
“What?”
“She thinks someone is trying to take her.”
His face hardened.
“Why?”
“She said she heard men talking about a test.”
He stood.
“I'll look into it.”
I stopped him.
“Wait.”
“Yes?”
“Why isn't she in school?”
He frowned.
“She's tutored at home.”
“Why?”
“Safety.”
“Or isolation?”
His eyes narrowed.
“You're questioning me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she's six.”
Silence.
He looked at me.
Then his expression softened.
“She lost her mother.”
I hadn't known.
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
Something in the way he said it bothered me.
“Was it investigated?”
“Yes.”
“Thoroughly?”
“Yes.”
“By whom?”
“Police.”
“Private investigators?”
“Yes.”
“Your people?”
“Yes.”
I nodded.
“Okay.”
He studied me.
“Why?”
“Because I don't like mysteries involving children.”
He gave me a strange look.
Neither of us knew then how many mysteries were about to surface.
Two nights later, Belle had a cardiac episode.
She collapsed during dinner.
I caught her.
Harlan came running.
“Belle!”
I laid her flat.
Her pulse was weak.
Her lips turned blue.
“Call the doctor!”
Harlan screamed.
I checked her medication.
One bottle.
Then another.
I noticed something.
The dose had been doubled.
I looked at Harlan.
“This isn't what she's supposed to take.”
He froze.
“What?”
“She was given twice the medication.”
The doctor arrived.
He checked.
Then stared.
“She would have died.”
Harlan turned to me.
“Who administered it?”
The nurse said,
“Mrs. Carter.”
We looked toward the kitchen.
She had disappeared.
Security found her car gone.
Harlan was furious.
But I noticed something else.
Belle's symptoms didn't fully match an overdose.
She wasn't just weak.
She was confused.
A blood test showed another substance.
A sedative.
Someone had given her something.
Deliberately.
Harlan looked at me.
“You're not leaving this house.”
“What?”
“For your protection.”
“I have a life.”
“Not anymore.”
I stepped closer.
“You don't own me.”
“No.”
He stared.
“I am trying to keep you alive.”
I wanted to argue.
Then Belle woke.
She whispered,
“Rue.”
I went to her.
She held my hand.
“Don't go.”
I smiled.
“I won't.”
She closed her eyes.
Behind us, Harlan watched.
And I saw something in his face.
Not fear.
Decision.
Whoever had tried to kill his daughter had made a terrible mistake.
May you like
They had given him someone else to protect.
Me.
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