Chapter 1: The Foam on the Floor
Chapter 1: The Foam on the Floor
The nursery fell silent.
The only sound was the baby's soft breathing from the crib.
Emma stared at the white foam spreading across the polished wooden floor. Milk did not react like that.
Not naturally.
Her heart pounded as she slowly looked toward her mother.
"Mom..." she whispered. "Tell me this isn't true."
Margaret stood frozen near the doorway, her elegant posture collapsing beneath the weight of Emma's gaze. Tears rolled down her face, but no words came.
The maid, Sofia, struggled to her feet despite the sting on her cheek.
"I saw someone pour something into the bottle," she said through trembling breaths. "I didn't know who it was until I came into the nursery."
Emma's knees weakened.
"My own mother?"
Margaret finally spoke.
"I never wanted this."
Emma stepped backward as if the words themselves had struck her.
"What do you mean... you never wanted this?"
Before Margaret could answer, the nursery door burst open.
Her father, Charles Whitmore, rushed inside after hearing the shouting.
He looked at the shattered bottle, the foaming liquid, and then at Margaret's tear-stained face.
His expression turned cold.
"What have you done?"
Margaret closed her eyes.
"It wasn't supposed to happen like this."
Charles immediately called security.
"No one leaves this room."
Within minutes, the estate physician tested a sample of the liquid.
His face turned pale.
"It contains aconitine."
Everyone froze.
"A dose this concentrated could have killed the baby within minutes."
Emma looked at the crib where her son slept peacefully, unaware that death had nearly reached him.
She slowly turned back to her mother.
"I trusted you."
Margaret covered her face and began to sob.
"You don't understand."
May you like
"No," Emma replied quietly.
"I don't."
