The warm sunlight streaming in through the large windows of Elizabeth's study cast golden streaks on the polished hardwood floor. But the woman seated in the high-back velvet chair was far more interested in the flickering images playing across her laptop screen than the beauty of the mid morning light.
A quiet smile curved Elizabeth's lips, slow and satisfied, as she leaned forward, her fingers steepled beneath her chin. Her sharp eyes watched every second of the footage playing before her—the grainy black-and-white CCTV recording from the hallway outside Eliana Howells's hospital room.
It wasn't high-definition, but it was enough. Enough to know she'd been the one who'd been outside Eliana's room, listening to Ivy speaking her nonsense.
Elizabeth leaned back with a slow breath, her body relaxing for the first time since that morning. It's done, she thought. And it was worth every second of planning.
