Her maid had never spoken like this before. Epha shut the door behind her, stepped closer, and whispered everything she had heard. Each word felt heavy, but she forced them out. By the time she finished, Madame Veronica’s face had gone pale. She stared at her maid for a long moment, then removed her glasses slowly, as if trying to see the truth better without them.

“You are sure?” she ased finally, her voice trembling. Ephyoma nodded, tears pressing behind her eyes. “I heard it myself, Ma. He said he will finish it tonight.” For a moment, silence hung in the room.

Only the rain outside tapped against the windows. Then madam stood. She straightened her wrapper, wiped her face, and whispered, “I gave him everything.

I opened my doors, my table, my life, and this is how he thanks me.” Her voice broke, but she quickly steadied it. “We cannot wait. We must act now.” If’s heart raced. Should I call the police? Madam looked at her, eyes glassy but strong. Yes, but carefully. If he suspects, he will try faster. They moved to the small study, a room with bookshelves lined with fabric history and business awards.