A Caged Songbird's Escape: Into the Arms of a Predator novel Chapter 567

The second half of her sentence made Laurel tense up. She spun around and immediately pressed, "Where did she get it?"

"Downstairs!"

With her son's future on the line, the maid lost all composure and spilled everything, stumbling over her words. "That day... that day I was on the third floor, waiting in Maya's room."

"When she came up from the banquet hall downstairs, she already had the hair sample for me to swap in her hand."

Laurel's eyes narrowed sharply. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely sure!"

Hearing this definitive answer, Laurel felt she was even closer to finding Vera.

She vaguely remembered that when Lawrence came to get the hair sample that day, Maya had made an excuse to return to her room early, and had used that window to give the sample to Mrs. Thorne.

To prove her words, Mrs. Thorne frantically grabbed her phone and pulled up a chat log. "Ms. Wilkinson, look, this is the message Maya sent me right before she gave me the sample. I had just stepped out of the room when she hurried up from the stairs."

— [Come out right now, stop waiting in my room.]

Glancing at the chat log, Laurel suddenly had a much clearer direction. She turned on a voice recorder and held it out. "Repeat everything you just said, and explain this entire situation from start to finish."

Afterward, she told Serena to wait there for the voice recorder while she went upstairs to the study.

Her study was strictly off-limits; apart from her, only Serena was allowed inside.

Once inside, she pulled up the surveillance footage from Old Mr. Wilkinson's birthday banquet and dragged the progress bar to the moment Maya left.

The timestamp in the bottom right corner read: 19:39.

But the time Maya sent the message to Mrs. Thorne was exactly 8:00 PM.

It couldn't possibly take that long to get from the banquet hall to the third floor.

What was Maya doing during those twenty-odd minutes?

Unfortunately, the manor only had cameras in the reception areas around the banquet hall; there were none in the private living quarters.

Digging deeper through surveillance footage was impossible.

She rubbed her temples, which throbbed from sleep deprivation, feeling as though she was missing something incredibly important.

"Knock, knock—"

The butler knocked and entered. "Ms. Wilkinson, Mr. Wilkinson is back. He asked if you'd be staying for dinner tonight."

Laurel glanced out the window, only just realizing dusk was falling.

She shook her head, closing her laptop and standing up. "No, I need to head back to Vistapeak City."

She had accomplished what she came here to do.

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