Chapter 2 - The Woman Everyone Trusted)
Sloane Whitaker had not entered Jackson Reed's life as an enemy.
She had entered it as family.
Natalie Reed and Sloane had met when they were nineteen.
They had been college roommates, then business partners, then inseparable friends.
When Jackson met Natalie five years later, Sloane had been one of the first people Natalie introduced him to.
"This is basically my sister," Natalie had said.
Sloane had smiled.
"Unfortunately, she's right."
For the next eight years, she had been present at almost every important moment.
The wedding.
The first house.
The launch of Natalie's charitable foundation.
The pregnancy announcement.
Caleb's birth.
When Natalie died in a single-car accident on a rain-covered road outside Boston, Sloane had stood beside Jackson at the funeral.
She had arranged food when he forgot to eat.
She had answered calls he could not bear to answer.
She had held Caleb when Jackson had been too numb to move.
For months, Jackson had believed he owed her more than he could ever repay.
That was why she still had access to the house.
That was why no one questioned her when she entered without calling.
That was why Hannah's accusations had initially felt impossible.
Hannah Brooks had been hired six weeks earlier.
Unlike the previous caregivers, she had been chosen by Jackson himself.
After Natalie died, Jackson had gone through three nannies in seven months.
The first quit after Sloane accused her of sleeping during Caleb's afternoon nap.
The second was dismissed after medication went missing from the bathroom cabinet.
The third left after claiming the Reed house made her uncomfortable.
Jackson had assumed grief and instability were making everyone tense.
Then Hannah arrived.
She was calm.
Organized.
Unimpressed by the Reed family's wealth.
Most importantly, Caleb liked her.
Within days, he began reaching for her when she entered the room.
Within two weeks, his disrupted sleep improved.
Within a month, Jackson found himself arriving home to a house that no longer felt permanently on edge.
Sloane disliked Hannah almost immediately.
At first, she disguised it as concern.
"She doesn't have enough high-profile family experience."
"Caleb needs someone older."
"Are you sure her references were properly verified?"
Jackson had dismissed the comments.
Until the afternoon of the vase.
The morning after Sloane's arrest, Hannah sat in Jackson's kitchen wearing a medical sling.
Nothing was broken, but the doctor had diagnosed a severe shoulder contusion.
Caleb sat in his high chair eating pieces of banana.
Jackson placed coffee in front of Hannah.
"You don't have to stay."
Hannah looked at him.
"I know."
"I'm serious. After yesterday, I wouldn't blame you."
"I'm not leaving Caleb because she scared me."
Jackson sat across from her.
"She could have hurt you worse."
"She could have hurt him."
That answer stayed with him.
Hannah looked toward the hallway.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Yes."
"How long has Sloane had access to your house?"
"Since before Natalie died."
"And the security system?"
Jackson hesitated.
"I thought only I had administrator access."
"You thought?"
"She helped Natalie set it up."
Hannah looked troubled.
Jackson noticed.
"What?"
"There have been things."
"What things?"
Hannah glanced at Caleb.
"Small things."
"Tell me."
She slowly exhaled.
"The first week I worked here, I noticed Caleb became upset every time Sloane arrived."
"He's a toddler."
"I know."
"But?"
"But it wasn't normal stranger anxiety."
She explained.
Caleb did not simply cry when Sloane approached.
He sometimes froze.
He would stop playing and stare toward the sound of her heels.
Once, he had crawled behind Hannah after smelling Sloane's perfume before Sloane even entered the room.
Jackson's expression changed.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I wasn't sure what I was seeing."
"What else?"
"His toys."
"What about them?"
"Sometimes I would leave them arranged in one place, and when I came back, one would be somewhere dangerous."
Jackson frowned.
"Meaning?"
"A wooden block on the stairs."
"A stuffed rabbit near the fireplace."
"Once, a small toy was inside the laundry room even though I had shut the door."
"You think Sloane moved them?"
"I didn't know."
"But you suspected it."
Hannah nodded.
"Then two weeks ago, Caleb almost swallowed part of a broken plastic clip."
Jackson went pale.
"What?"
"I found it first."
"You never told me."
"I told Sloane."
Jackson stared.
"Why her?"
"Because you were in Chicago and she said she was handling household issues."
Hannah's eyes hardened.
"She told me not to bother you."
Jackson looked away.
That sounded exactly like Sloane.
Hannah continued.
"That same afternoon, she told me maybe I wasn't careful enough to work here."
Jackson understood.
The dangerous objects appeared.
Hannah found them.
Sloane positioned herself as the person identifying Hannah's supposed negligence.
"She was trying to make you look incompetent."
"Maybe."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
Jackson stood and walked toward the window.
For months, every caregiver failure had seemed random.
Now he saw a pattern.
One nanny accused of sleeping.
Another connected to missing medication.
Another frightened enough to resign.
Then Hannah.
A series of women removed from the house.
A series of incidents involving Caleb.
And Sloane nearby every time.
His phone rang.
It was the security company.
Jackson answered immediately.
The technician introduced himself as Marcus Hall.
"We recovered part of the local cache."
Jackson looked at Hannah.
"How much?"
"Not everything."
"Do you have yesterday?"
"Yes."
Jackson's grip tightened.
Marcus continued.
"But there's something else you need to know first."
"What?"
"The camera wasn't malfunctioning."
Jackson's eyes narrowed.
"It was manually disabled."
"From inside the house?"
"No."
Marcus paused.
"From an administrator account."
Jackson felt the room become cold.
"Whose account?"
"I can't identify the person yet."
"Then what can you identify?"
"The login location."
Jackson waited.
Marcus gave him an address.
Jackson recognized it instantly.
It was not Sloane's home.
It was the headquarters of the Natalie Reed Foundation.
May you like
The charity Natalie had created four years before her death.
The charity Sloane had taken control of after the funeral.
