Without wasting another second, Eleanor stood up, taking the little girl's small, dirty hand in her own. She turned to her personal assistant, who was standing nearby with his jaw dropped in disbelief. "Cancel all my appointments for the rest of the month," Eleanor ordered, her voice regaining a sharp, fierce authority despite the tears still glistening on her cheeks. "Call our private medical team and have a car brought around to the front entrance immediately."
The guests watched in awe as Eleanor guided the young girl out of the sparkling ballroom, stepping through the massive glass doors out into the crisp afternoon sunlight. The luxury black limousine was already idling at the curb, its chauffeur opening the rear door with utmost respect. Eleanor helped the child slide into the plush leather interior, wrapping a warm cashmere blanket around her frail shoulders before getting in beside her.
"What is your name, sweetheart?" Eleanor asked gently, taking a clean silk handkerchief from her pocket to wipe the soot and tears from the little girl's face. The child looked around the luxurious vehicle with wide, amazed eyes before answering softly, "My name is Maya. Clara said I was named after our grandmother."
Fresh tears filled Eleanor's eyes at the sound of the family name. There was no doubt left in her mind; this little girl was her niece, the daughter or ward her long-lost sister had protected with her life. "Where is Clara now, Maya?" Eleanor asked, her voice filled with desperate hope. "Take us to her right now." Maya pointed out the tinted window toward the industrial district on the edge of the city, where the old abandoned warehouses stood in the shadows.