Chapter 4 - Unmasking the Ghost
The revelation sickened Julia to her core. The monster wasn't a phantom; it was the woman Richard Wakefield intended to marry. But the question remained: why?
To find the motive, Julia needed to look into the past. She began spending her evenings researching the Wakefield family history online and subtly talking to the older staff members.
She discovered that Eleanor Wakefield’s death a year ago had been sudden—a tragic, unexplained fall from the balcony of their summer estate. Shortly after, Victoria Sterling, a long-time "friend" of the family, had swooped in to comfort the grieving billionaire.
More importantly, Julia unearthed a copy of Eleanor’s public will. Eleanor had left her vast personal fortune—a separate billions-dollar estate inherited from her own family—entirely in a trust for Luna. If Luna were to pass away before the age of eighteen without any surviving siblings, the entire trust would revert automatically to Richard... and, by extension, his new legal spouse.
Victoria wasn't just trying to eliminate a child; she was clearing the path to total control of the Wakefield empire.
But knowing the truth and proving it were two entirely different things. If Julia went to Richard now, Victoria would simply claim Julia was an unstable, grieving mother making wild accusations. Victoria would destroy the vials, clean her hands, and Luna would be lost forever.
Julia needed undeniable, physical evidence of the administration. She needed to catch Victoria in the act.
The opportunity came two days later. Richard announced he had to fly to Chicago for a critical, overnight board meeting.
“I hate leaving her,” Richard said to Julia in the foyer, his coat over his arm. He looked like a man carrying the weight of the world. “But Victoria will be here. Keep a close eye on Luna for me, Julia. You’re one of the few people she tolerates these days.”
“I will protect her with my life, sir,” Julia said, her voice filled with a solemn gravity that Richard didn't quite understand, though he nodded gratefully before stepping into his limousine.
As night fell over the Wakefield mansion, a heavy thunderstorm rolled in. Lightning flashed across the sky, casting long, skeletal shadows through the grand windows. The regular nighttime nurses were dismissed early by Victoria, who claimed she wanted to give the family some privacy during Richard’s absence.
At 11:30 PM, the mansion was dead silent, save for the rumbling of thunder.
Julia crept out of her room, wearing dark, soft clothes and thick socks to muffle her footsteps. In her hand, she clutched her smartphone, its camera set to video mode.
She hid in the deep shadows of the linen closet directly across from Luna’s bedroom door. The door was slightly ajar, letting a sliver of pale light from the hallway cut through the darkness.
Midnight struck.
Like a specter rising from the dark, a figure appeared at the end of the hallway. It was Victoria. She was wearing a flowing white silk nightgown, her long dark hair loose around her shoulders. In the dim light, she looked eerily like the ghost of Eleanor—a deliberate tactic, Julia realized, to confuse and terrify the child if she ever woke up during the poisoning.
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In Victoria’s hand was a small glass vial and a syringe.
Julia held her breath, her heart pounding so loudly she feared Victoria would hear it. She raised her phone, positioning the camera lens through the crack of the linen closet door, and pressed Record.
