It was the first time I had ever spoken those words aloud.
The room seemed different afterward.
Maria glanced toward the notebook.
“Did it work?”
“What?”
“Did you become like him?”
I started to respond.
Then stopped.
“I used to believe I had.”
“And now?”
My gaze shifted toward the hallway.
Toward the room where Sofia was sleeping.
“I don’t know.”
Maria remained silent for several seconds.
Then she said, “That’s probably a good sign.”
I laughed once.
“You don’t know much about people like me.”
“I know enough.”
“That sounds judgmental.”
“It isn’t.”
“What is it?”
She met my gaze directly.
“Observation.”
I leaned backward.
“I like you less when you’re comfortable.”
“No, you don’t.”
That pulled another laugh from me.
A genuine one this time.
Maria smiled.
Only slightly.
But enough.
The expression transformed her face completely.
For one strange moment, the photograph, Vincent, Gabriel, the locked room—all of it vanished.
There was only a woman sitting inside my office after midnight.
A woman who had entered my home searching for evidence against me. A woman I probably should have dismissed immediately.
Instead, I asked, “Why didn’t you leave?”
She understood exactly what I meant.
“When?”
“When you realized I might not be responsible.”
Her smile disappeared.
“I considered it.”
“What stopped you?”
She rubbed her thumb along the notebook’s edge.
“Sofia likes being here.”
“That seems unlikely.”
“She likes Mrs. Greene.”
“Our cook.”
“And the garden.”
“She ruins the garden.”
“She calls it gardening.”
“She dug up an entire row of tulips.”
“She was searching for treasure.”
“She discovered an irrigation pipe.”
Maria smiled again.
Then the smile faded.
“And she likes you.”
I stared at her.
“No, she doesn’t.”
“Yes, she does.”
“Why?”
“Because you listen when she talks.”
“I tolerate her.”
“She doesn’t understand the difference.”
“I certainly do.”
Maria shook her head.
“You bought the blue cereal.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“Last month. Sofia told Mrs. Greene she liked the cereal with blue stars.”
“That proves nothing.”
“The following morning, four boxes appeared in the pantry.”
I said nothing.
“You told the driver to slow down near the east gate because Sofia rides her scooter there.”
“That was about safety.”
“You had the loose stair rail fixed the same afternoon she nearly stumbled beside it.”
“It needed fixing.”
“You rearranged a meeting because she had a fever and I couldn’t come to work.”
I stared at her.
“You were paying attention.”
“I manage the house.”
“You manage everything.”
Her voice had changed.
Softer.
“You notice people, Daniel.”
“That doesn’t mean I care about them.”
Maria held my gaze.
“No. But I think you need to believe that you don’t.”
Something inside me tightened.
I nearly told her the conversation was finished.
Then the front intercom sounded.
Anthony.
Saved by an older man with inconvenient timing.
I stood.
“Stay here.”
Maria’s expression sharpened.
“Why?”
“Because Anthony might know your husband.”
