I found Toby in the VIP lounge, a small, insulated room where some of the initial gala guests had retreated to escape the commotion. He was sitting on a plush velvet sofa, engrossed in a handheld video game, oblivious to the storm brewing outside.
A plate of untouched mini quiches sat beside him. His babysitter, a young woman named Chloe, looked harried but relieved to see me.
“Grandma Evelyn!” Toby chirped, looking up, his face bright. “Are we going home soon? This party is boring.”
I knelt beside him, putting on my best reassuring smile. “Soon, sweet pea. I just needed to check on you.”
My heart ached with the desire to shield him from all of this. He shouldn’t be here, caught in the crossfire of his mother’s ambition.
“Is Mommy mad?” he asked, his small brow furrowed. “She was yelling on her blue phone earlier. The secret one.”
My ears perked up. “Her blue phone? What do you mean, ‘secret one’?”
Toby shrugged, focusing back on his game. “Yeah, the one she hides. She keeps it in my toy box when she visits. Says it’s for ‘important grown-up calls’ so nobody else hears.”
My blood ran cold. A second phone. Unencrypted. Hidden in a child’s toy box. The implications slammed into me.
“Your toy box, Toby?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual. “The one in your room at home?”
“No,” he said, without looking up. “The one we brought for the party. She said I could play with the blocks if I stayed quiet.”
He pointed vaguely towards a colorful, plastic toy box tucked away in a corner of the lounge. It was one of those travel-sized ones, filled with building blocks and action figures, meant to keep children occupied during long events.
My gaze locked onto it. A secret phone. Likely unmonitored by her campaign staff, used for the most sensitive, off-the-books communications. The kind that wouldn’t be on the encrypted network Marcus had given me. This could be where the *unfiltered*, raw orders for the smear campaign were stored. Direct, undeniable proof.
My heart hammered against my ribs. This was a crucial piece, revealed by a child’s innocent remark.
“Toby, darling,” I said, my voice deliberately soft, “would you mind if Grandma borrowed something from your toy box for a minute? Just a really important block?”
He gave me a wide, trusting smile. “Sure, Grandma!”
Chloe, meanwhile, was distracted, trying to manage a spill of juice another child had made. It was the perfect, chaotic window.
I needed that phone. And I needed it before Lauren or her aides realized it was missing.
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