Ethan stared at the floating marshmallows, his small knuckles white as he gripped the mug.
“Mommy lied,” he whispered, his voice trembling but terrifyingly clear. “Maya didn’t steal the jewelry.”
I knelt beside him, trying to keep my tone even. “I know you love Maya, buddy, but the police found the necklaces in her bag.”
Caleb looked up, tears spilling over his cheeks. “Because Mommy put them there!”
My breath hitched. “What?”
Ethan finally met my eyes, and the sheer, adult-like terror in his gaze chilled my blood. “I saw her, Daddy. Mommy slipped the diamonds into Maya’s backpack when she was in the bathroom. But that’s not the secret.”
He leaned closer, glancing frantically toward the glass terrace doors where Vivian’s white suit gleamed in the moonlight.
“Maya found Mommy’s hidden phone,” Ethan breathed. “The one she uses to talk to the man.”
My mind raced. *What man?*
“Maya heard Mommy talking about your car,” Caleb chimed in, his innocent voice delivering a death sentence. “She told the man she cut the tubes. She said you were going to have a bad crash tomorrow on the mountain road. Maya was going to warn you tonight. That’s why Mommy called the police.”
The mug of hot chocolate suddenly felt like ice in my hands. The puzzle pieces violently snapped together. The sudden rush to fire our long-time mechanic last week. Vivian insisting I drive the vintage Porsche to the coastal board meeting tomorrow morning.
Through the glass doors, Vivian turned and caught me looking. She offered that same chilling, immaculate smile.
I didn’t have a thieving nanny. I had a wife orchestrating my murder.
I smiled back at her, slowly sliding my phone from my pocket. I didn’t need my corporate lawyers. I needed the Chief of Police. I had twelve hours to flip the script, and my flawless wife had no idea the trap was already set.