His eyes burned with a mixture of terror and fury as he stared at Maria.
“I pay you to clean the house, not to kill my children,” he hissed coldly.
“I gave strict instructions. No one gets them out of their chairs without medical supervision.”
Maria trembled, but lifted her chin.
“Sir… with respect, your sons weren’t going to break. They need to move. They’ve been begging me to play whenever the nurse isn’t watching.”
“When the nurse isn’t watching?” Jonathan stood up, towering over her.
“You’ve been interfering with the medical plan I’m paying for?”
“You’re fired,” he snapped. “Five minutes. Pack your things and leave before I call security.”
Maria stepped forward desperately.
“If I leave, they’ll go back to sleeping all day. Those boys have muscles, Mr. Hayes. What they don’t have is energy… because the nurse keeps them drugged.”
The room fell silent.
Right then Nurse Diane walked in carrying a silver tray with two syringes.
“Oh dear, Mr. Hayes,” she said smoothly. “I heard shouting. Their heart rates are elevated. I warned you untrained staff shouldn’t interact with the boys.”
Jonathan looked at the nurse—recommended by the best doctors in the country.
Then he looked at Maria—the housekeeper with no medical degree.
His business instincts chose the “logical” side.
“Leave,” he told Maria coldly.
She took a deep breath.
But before she walked out, she grabbed something from the side table—an empty glass vial Diane had just used to prepare the injection—and slipped it into one of her yellow gloves.
At the front door she paused.
“I’ll go, Mr. Hayes,” she said quietly. “But here’s a free piece of advice—something your expensive doctors didn’t mention.”
“If your children are truly sick… why does the nurse keep their medicine in her purse instead of the house medical cabinet?”
She looked back at him.
“Check the kitchen security cameras. Today. Two p.m.”
Then she stepped out into the rain.
Curiosity turned into dread when Jonathan opened the camera footage.
The video was crystal clear.
There was Diane, alone in the kitchen.
She removed an unlabeled bottle from her designer bag and poured the liquid into the boys’ juice with a calm smile.
Jonathan’s stomach dropped.
He rewound the footage.
Earlier that morning he saw Maria dancing with the twins in her yellow gloves…
And his “disabled” sons standing up.
Laughing.
Walking.
“They weren’t sick…” Jonathan whispered in horror.
“She was drugging them.”