Part 2Axe Wielding Heiress Defies The Elites

But the screaming never came.

Maisie hit the floor hard. I heard her knee crack against the hardwood—a dull, painful thud.

She didn't even look at her leg. She scrambled up, frantic, her first instinct being to check me for glass shards. Her face was a mask of pure panic and apology.

"I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, Aggie! The floor was too slick—did it hit you? Are you hurt?"

She looked at the mess, her eyes welling with actual tears of terror.

I stared down at her, feeling... confused. I hadn't even touched her.

Maybe she’s just a really good actress, I reasoned. Establishing a baseline of innocence before the big move.

I decided to play along. "I'm fine. Go to bed."

The next morning, I was yawning my way to the stairs when a shadow blocked my path.

Maisie was standing at the top of the flight, looking like she’d been crying for hours.

Bingo, my brain whispered. The Staircase Scene. She’s going to 'fall' and blame me. This is the big one.

I braced myself. I’d seen this movie. When she tipped, I’d grab her and pull her into a hug, ruining her little drama.

Suddenly, Maisie lunged. She grabbed my arm with a grip so tight it actually surprised me.

Wow, she really doesn't want me to escape the frame, I thought.

I was about to flip her over my shoulder and end the charade, but she didn't push. She started guiding me down the stairs, one agonizingly slow step at a time.

Her voice was trembling. "Aggie... I had a nightmare. I dreamed you fell down these stairs."

"And then I got up for water and realized how slippery the wood is. I was so scared. Please, let me hold onto you. You have to be careful."

Me: "..."

I tried to pull my arm away. I was a girl who could carry a butchered hog over a mountain trail without breaking a sweat. I didn't need a waif-like girl to help me walk.

But the more I pulled, the tighter she clung, tears streaming down her face. "Please don’t push me away. I can’t let you get hurt."

I looked at her, then at the ceiling. What is happening in this house?

When we finally reached the foyer, Robert and Diane were waiting.

They saw Maisie clutching my arm, and their first reaction wasn't to ask what she was doing. They rushed me like a NASCAR pit crew, checking me for bruises.

"Aggie! Are you okay? Did something happen?" Diane’s voice was pure anxiety.

Robert turned to Maisie, his voice stern but shaky. "Honey, don’t grab her so hard. You’re going to bruise her arm."

The whole family was a mess of frantic energy. Diane ran to the kitchen to order my favorite breakfast (or what she thought was my favorite), and Robert started digging through a first-aid kit, insisting on putting ointment on a "red mark" that wasn't even there.

That’s when Mrs. Hannigan, the housekeeper, sidled up to me with a plastic smile. "Good morning, Miss Montgomery. I didn't get a chance to properly introduce myself yesterday. You can call me Elizabeth."

I arched an eyebrow. "Is that right, Beth?"

Her smile faltered for a micro-second. She leaned in, her voice dropping to a low, oily whisper. "Listen, honey. You’re new here. You don’t know how deep the water is with your parents. You and I? We’re the outsiders. You’d better watch your back with them."

I nodded slowly, playing the part.

It almost made sense. Their behavior was too weird to be normal.