Chapter 6: The Woman at My Window
I couldn't breathe.
Emily was supposed to be inside the courthouse.
I stared at the photograph again.
Then I saw the date.
It wasn't live.
“Michael.””
He grabbed my phone.
“What?””
“Look at her sweater.””
Emily was wearing yellow.
Today she'd worn blue.
Ms. Reynolds leaned over his shoulder.
“That photograph wasn't taken today.””
Relief hit me so hard I nearly collapsed.
Then another realization replaced it.
Someone had been watching my house.
Watching Emily.
Judge Harrison ordered the message documented immediately.
“Where is the child now?”” he asked.
“With another advocate downstairs,” Ms. Reynolds said.
“Confirm it.””
She called.
Emily was safe.
I finally breathed.
But Sarah was gone.
Claire stood near the defense table, visibly shaken.
“Your Honor, I did not know my client intended to leave.””
Judge Harrison's voice was cold.
“Did she say where she was going?””
“No.””
“What happened during your consultation?””
Claire hesitated.
“I can't disclose privileged communication.””
The judge nodded.
“I won't ask you to.””
Then Claire added carefully, “I can say that I advised her not to leave.””
Michael looked at me.
That was enough.
Court security contacted local authorities because of the threatening message and Sarah's departure.
But I barely listened.
One question consumed me.
Who had sent the photograph?
Sarah's known number wasn't attached.
Michael warned me not to respond.
I didn't.
Then the phone buzzed again.
Another message.
*Ask Emily about the red car.*
I showed Michael.
His expression changed.
“Ms. Reynolds.””
She was already moving.
“I'll speak with her.””
“I'm coming.””
“No, Daniel.””
“That's my daughter.””
“And whoever is sending these messages may be trying to influence your reaction.””
I hated that she was right.
I waited outside the interview room.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Finally, the door opened.
Ms. Reynolds stepped out.
Her face was pale.
“What?””
“Emily knows about a red car.””
My stomach tightened.
“What car?””
“She says it sometimes parked near your house during your parenting time.””
I frowned.
“I've never noticed one.””
“Emily did.””
“Why?””
“Because she saw her grandmother inside it.””
“Patricia?””
“Yes.””
I stared at her.
“Sarah's mother was watching my house?””
“According to Emily.””
Michael joined us.
“How often?””
“Emily remembers at least three times.””
I felt sick.
“Why didn't she tell me?””
Ms. Reynolds's answer came quietly.
“Because Patricia told her it was a game.””
My jaw tightened.
“What game?””
“Secret Guardian.””
I stared at her.
“That's what they called it?””
“Patricia told Emily she was helping make sure her father behaved.””
My fists clenched.
Michael saw it.
“Daniel.””
“I know.””
But I was done pretending this was merely a bitter custody dispute.
My daughter had been monitored.
Questioned.
Threatened with losing her grandmother.
Used to carry something into my house.
And now someone was sending me surveillance photographs.
My phone buzzed again.
This time it wasn't a message.
It was a call.
Unknown number.
Michael said, “Don't answer.””
I looked at him.
“What if it's Sarah?””
“Especially then.””
The phone stopped.
Immediately, a voicemail appeared.
We took it into an empty room.
Michael put the phone on speaker.
At first there was only breathing.
Then Sarah's voice.
“Daniel.””
My entire body went rigid.
She sounded different.
No shouting.
No courtroom fury.
She sounded scared.
“If you're hearing this, Claire probably told them I ran.””
Michael quietly began recording the playback on his own device.
Sarah continued.
“I know what you think.””
A pause.
“You think I planned all of this.””
Another pause.
“I didn't.””
I almost laughed.
Then she said something I wasn't expecting.
“My mother did.””
Michael and I looked at each other.
Sarah's breathing became uneven.
“She said you'd take Emily away from me. She said men like you always win because people believe the calm parent.””
I gripped the edge of the table.
“She told me we needed proof.””
Sarah sniffed.
“I knew about the phone. I knew she was watching your house. But the bottle…”
Silence.
“The bottle wasn't supposed to be medication.””
Michael leaned closer.
Sarah continued.
“It was supposed to be empty.””
My skin prickled.
“Mom said we'd photograph it, put it in Emily's bag, let you find it, then say you were careless.””
She started crying.
“I swear that's what she told me.””
I felt no sympathy.
Not yet.
Maybe never.
Then Sarah whispered:
“But after I picked it up from your house, I checked the label.””
A long pause.
“It wasn't empty.””
Michael's face hardened.
Sarah's voice dropped.
“And it wasn't my mother's prescription.””
The voicemail ended.
I stared at the phone.
“What does that mean?””
Michael didn't answer.
Then another voicemail arrived.
Same number.
We played it.
Sarah was crying harder now.
“Daniel, listen to me. I know you hate me.””
She inhaled shakily.
“But you need to get Emily somewhere Patricia can't find her.””
My blood ran cold.
“Sarah—”
The recording continued.
“I asked Mom where she got the bottle.””
A muffled sound came from Sarah's end.
A car door, maybe.
Then her voice dropped to a whisper.
“She told me it belonged to another little girl.””
Michael froze.
Sarah said one final sentence.
“A girl from another custody case.””
The message ended.
I stared at him.
“What other custody case?””
Before Michael could answer, Ms. Reynolds rushed through the door holding her phone.
“Daniel.””
Her face had gone white.
“What happened?””
“I searched Patricia Carter's name through the records available to our office.””
“And?””
She swallowed.
“Sarah wasn't the first parent Patricia helped through a custody fight.””
I felt the room tilt.
“How many?””
Ms. Reynolds turned the screen toward us.
“Four that I can find.””
Michael leaned closer.
Then his expression changed.
“Why is that one marked deceased?””
Ms. Reynolds didn't answer immediately.
When she finally did, her voice was barely above a whisper.
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“Because seven years ago, one of the children in those cases died.””
And the child's name was printed directly beneath Patricia's.
