“Oliver—look at me. Stay with me.” His lips were blue. His chest hitched in sharp, broken climbs and slides. The oxygen machine—his lifeline—sat quiet and useless, knocked out by the blackout that had rolled over Larks Falls like a fist. He clutched her arm, terrified. She screamed down the halls for help.
No one came.
That was the night Kenya stepped across a line the Laramore estate had etched into everyone who worked there: obey the rules, or disappear. On paper, that mansion at the edge of town was a marvel—stone and glass behind iron gates, home to Travis Laramore, billionaire and head of Orbisync Systems, a company that guarded government and corporate secrets. In practice, the house ran like a machine. Staff moved like ghosts. People spoke only when spoken to. The air prized order over compassion.
Kenya had been on the housekeeping roster six weeks. Thirty-two, careful, invisible. To the staff she was a pair of hands; to the security cameras, a badge number. But she’d noticed the boy in the eastern wing—the small nine-year-old with the wheeled oxygen cart and a library of books stacked like walls. Oliver. Travis’s son from his first marriage. A child tethered to a…..Read Full Story Here………
