Chapter 4: What Ellen Calloway Saw
Richard sat on the edge of Sophie's bed until she fell asleep.
It didn't take long.
She was exhausted in the way only a frightened child can be — the kind of tired that goes all the way to the bone.
He watched her breathing slow, watched her small fist loosen around the fabric of his sleeve, and he stayed until he was certain she was gone.
Then he stepped into the hallway and called the number.
Ellen Calloway answered on the first ring.
"Mr.
Sterling."
"Mrs.
Calloway.
Tell me everything."
A pause.
He could hear her steadying herself.
"I should have called sooner.
I'm sorry.
She told me — Mrs.
Sterling told me that if I contacted you, she would report me for theft.
She said she had evidence.
I knew it wasn't true, but I was scared.
I have a family."
"I understand.
You're safe now.
Tell me what you saw."
Ellen Calloway told him.
It started three months ago, she said.
Small things at first.
Diana cutting Sophie's meals when Richard traveled.
Telling Sophie that Daddy preferred quiet children.
Locking the playroom so Sophie had nowhere to go but her bedroom.
Taking away her books.
"She took her books?" Richard's voice was careful.
Controlled.
"Said they were making Sophie too attached to things that weren't hers.
Said the house was going to change when the new baby came and Sophie needed to understand her place."
Richard said nothing.
"Then about six weeks ago," Ellen continued, "Mrs.
Sterling started leaving Sophie alone in the mornings.
She'd go to her appointments, her lunches, and I'd come in at noon and find Sophie still in her pajamas.
No breakfast.
Sometimes she'd been crying so long she'd gone quiet."
"Why didn't you call me then?"
"I tried.
Your assistant — Mr.
Harmon — he said you weren't to be disturbed during the Singapore expansion.
That family calls went to Mrs.
Sterling first.
I didn't know that was her arrangement, not yours."
Richard's jaw tightened.
He hadn't known that either.
"Last week," Ellen said, "I found Sophie trying to make herself toast.
She'd burned her fingers on the rack.
Not badly, but enough that she cried.
I cleaned it up and I told Mrs.
Sterling when she came home.
She looked at Sophie's hand and she said—" Ellen stopped.
"What did she say?"
"She said, 'You should have been more careful.
No one's going to feel sorry for you.'"
The hallway was very quiet.
"That was the day she dismissed me," Ellen said.
"She handed me an envelope and told me to be gone before Sophie woke up from her nap.
She said if I ever spoke to you or anyone about what happened in that house, she'd make sure I never worked again."
Richard leaned against the wall.
"Mrs.
Calloway.
I need you to write down everything you just told me.
Dates, times, exactly what you saw and heard.
Can you do that?"
"Yes.
I already started.
I've been writing it down every night since she let me go.
I didn't know what else to do."
"Send it to me tonight.
All of it."
"Mr.
Sterling — the ticket.
Did you find the ticket?"
Richard's hand tightened on the phone.
"I found it."
"She booked it two weeks ago.
I saw the confirmation on the printer.
I thought—" Ellen's voice broke slightly.
"I thought you knew.
I thought you'd agreed.
That's the only reason I didn't call sooner.
I told myself you must have known."
"I didn't know."
Silence.
"Send me everything tonight," Richard said.
"And Mrs.
Calloway — thank you.
For staying as long as you did."
He ended the call and stood in the dark hallway for a moment.
Then he opened his contacts and found his attorney's name.
James Whitfield had been Richard's lawyer for eleven years.
He answered on the third ring, voice rough with sleep.
"Richard.
It's past ten."
"I know.
I need you in the morning.
Early."
A pause.
"How early?"
"Seven."
Another pause.
Whitfield was reading something in his tone.
"I'll be there at six-thirty," he said.
"Do I need to bring anything specific?"
"Bring everything you have on prenuptial asset protection.
And James—" Richard glanced back at Sophie's door.
"Bring whatever I need to make sure my daughter never spends another night in this situation."
Whitfield was quiet for a moment.
"I'll see you at six-thirty," he said.
Richard put his phone in his pocket and walked back to Sophie's room.
He pushed the door open softly.
She was still asleep, one arm stretched toward the empty side of the bed where he had been sitting.
He pulled the chair from her small desk and set it beside her.
He sat down.
He wasn't going anywhere.
Downstairs, he heard Diana's heels cross the kitchen floor.
He heard the sound of a cabinet opening.
A glass being set down.
Then silence.
May you like
Then, very faintly, the sound of her voice.
She was on the phone.
