“I know. You're too honest for that.”
The words stayed with Malachi.
Too honest.
He wondered whether honesty was a strength or a disadvantage in a world where powerful people could change their minds whenever the truth became inconvenient.
When he returned home, Paige was waiting for him.
“There was a man here today,” she said.
Malachi set down his backpack.
“What man?”
“He said he was asking questions about your school and our family. He claimed he was doing a routine background check.”
“Did you tell him anything?”
“Only what was necessary. But I didn't like the way he asked.”
Malachi's stomach tightened.
“Was he from the mansion?”
“I don't know.”
Paige sat beside him.
“Malachi, I need you to tell me if anyone approaches you about the safe.”
“I will.”
“Even if they say Mr. Stevenson sent them.”
“I promise.”
She embraced him.
For the first time, Malachi understood that the safe was no longer just a puzzle.
It had become a reason for strangers to enter their lives.
That night, he placed his notebook in a drawer beneath his schoolbooks.
He did not know what would happen next.
But he knew one thing.
He would not lie about what he had seen.
And he would not let anyone convince him that remembering the truth was a crime.
On Monday morning, Paige arrived at the mansion to find her cleaning cart missing.
She searched the service corridor, checked the laundry room, and finally asked another housekeeper whether anyone had moved it.
“Mr. Stevenson told security to keep your equipment in storage,” the woman whispered.
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Paige found Thomas Reed near the rear entrance.
“Mr. Reed, I need my cart.”
Thomas looked uncomfortable.
“I'll have someone bring it.”
“Why was it moved?”
“I wasn't given a reason.”
Paige studied him.
“You know something.”
Thomas glanced toward the security office.
“I know Mr. Stevenson is upset.”
“Because my son opened his safe?”
Thomas did not answer.
Paige sighed.
“I don't expect you to defend him. I only want to do my job.”
“I understand.”
“Then please tell me whether I'm still employed.”
Thomas hesitated.
“As far as I know, yes.”
Paige returned to work.
The day passed slowly. Several staff members avoided her, afraid that speaking to her might draw Wells's attention. Others offered quiet words of support.
At lunchtime, Caroline Price approached her in the kitchen.
“I heard what happened.”
Paige kept arranging plates.
“Then you know more than I wanted people to know.”
“I know Mr. Stevenson made an offer and is now refusing to honor it.”
Paige looked up.
“Please don't repeat that.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't want gossip to become the only thing people remember.”
Caroline leaned against the counter.
“Sometimes gossip is what happens when people refuse to tell the truth.”
Paige almost smiled.
“You sound like my son.”
“Then he must be a very sensible boy.”
For the first time in days, Paige felt a little less alone.
That afternoon, Wells summoned her.
He stood beside the desk in his study, holding a sheet of paper.
“I've reviewed your employment record.”
Paige waited.
“Your work has generally been satisfactory.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“However, your conduct over the past several days has raised concerns.”
“What concerns?”
“You have questioned my decisions. You have encouraged your son to make demands. You have created an atmosphere of hostility among the staff.”
Paige stared at him.
“I have done none of those things.”
“You've been speaking to Caroline.”
“She spoke to me.”
“You've been discussing the safe.”
“I have discussed it with no one except you and my son.”
Wells placed the paper on the desk.
“I am prepared to offer you a severance payment equal to three months of wages. In return, you will sign a confidentiality agreement and leave immediately.”
Paige looked at the paper.
It was a termination offer.
She had suspected this moment would come.
Three months of wages would help them survive for a while. She could look for another job, perhaps find a position with a kinder employer, and avoid the humiliation of being dismissed publicly.
But the agreement required her to sign away her right to discuss the incident.
She read the first paragraph.
Then the second.
Finally, she placed the paper back on the desk.
“I can't sign this.”
Wells's face hardened.
“Why not?”
“Because it says I must not discuss the promise you made to my son.”
“That is a reasonable condition.”
“It might be reasonable if I had done something wrong.”
“You are refusing a generous offer.”
“I am refusing to pretend that nothing happened.”
Wells moved closer.
“You should think carefully about your financial situation.”
“I have.”
“You have a child to support.”
“I know.”
“You could use this money.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then why are you making this difficult?”
Paige looked at him.
“Because my son is watching.”
For a moment, Wells seemed confused.
“What?”
“He is watching how I respond to you. He is learning what a person should do when someone with more power treats them unfairly.”
Paige's voice trembled, but she continued.
“If I sign this because I'm afraid, he may learn that the truth should always be sacrificed for survival. I don't want him to learn that.”
Wells stared at her.
Then he picked up the paper.
“Very well.”
He tore it in half.
“Consider yourself dismissed.”
Paige felt the words land heavily.
Her rent.
Her son's school expenses.
The small savings she had carefully protected.
Everything suddenly seemed uncertain.
Yet she refused to cry in front of him.
“Please provide my final wages in writing,” she said.
Wells looked at her as if she had insulted him.
“You have until the end of the day to collect your belongings.”
Paige nodded.
“Thank you for informing me.”
She turned toward the door.
“Paige.”
She stopped.
Wells stood behind his desk.
“You may discover that standing on principle is expensive.”
She looked back.
“It already has been.”