Chapter 3
Ethan called the police before I could say another word.
He locked every door.
Then he checked every window.
I stood in the middle of the living room holding Lily while my entire body shook.
“Tomorrow morning, we take the baby.”
The sentence kept repeating in my head.
Who was “we”?
And how?
Patricia had driven away.
But I no longer felt relieved.
I felt like the real danger had just begun.
Two officers arrived twenty minutes later.
Officer Bennett was a woman in her forties with a calm voice.
Her partner, Officer Ruiz, went upstairs with Ethan to review the nursery footage.
I sat on the couch while Bennett photographed the marks on my head.
“When did your mother-in-law begin staying here?”
“Six days ago.”
“The day you brought the baby home?”
“Yes.”
“Any violence before today?”
“No.”
I hesitated.
“Not physical.”
“What happened before?”
“She kept telling my husband I was unstable.”
Bennett wrote something down.
“She went through my medical records.”
Her pen stopped.
“Without permission?”
“Yes.”
“She also prepared custody documents.”
I handed her the papers Patricia had left behind.
Bennett’s expression changed as she read.
“This signature isn’t your husband’s?”
“No.”
“He says he’s never seen it.”
She looked toward the stairs.
“And Marcus Hale?”
“I don’t know him.”
Ethan came back down.
His face was tense.
“I do.”
I looked at him.
Officer Bennett said, “Tell me.”
Ethan sat across from us.
“When I was nine, my father died in a car accident.”
He swallowed.
“My mother started seeing Marcus about six months later.”
“Dating?”
“I thought so.”
“You thought?”
“I was a kid.”
He rubbed his hands together.
“They were together for maybe two years. Then suddenly Marcus disappeared.”
Patricia had told Ethan he moved away.
But Ethan had never heard from him again.
Officer Ruiz came downstairs carrying a small evidence bag.
Inside was a black plastic device.
“What is that?” I asked.
“Found behind the dresser in the guest room.”
Ethan stared at it.
Ruiz said, “Looks like a miniature audio recorder.”
My stomach dropped.
Patricia had been recording us.
Inside our own house.
Bennett stood.
“Mr. Carter, do you know if your mother installed this?”
“No.”
“Does anyone else have access to the house?”
“Our cleaning service.”
“Family?”
“My mother.”
“Anyone named Marcus?”
“No.”
Ruiz looked at the paperwork again.
“We’re going to need copies of the camera footage.”
Ethan nodded.
“I’ll send everything.”
Bennett looked at me.
“Given the assault and the written threat involving your child, I recommend you not stay alone tonight.”
“I won’t.”
“You can also seek an emergency protective order.”
“I want one.”
Ethan looked at me.
“Against my mother?”
“Yes.”
He nodded immediately.
“Okay.”
A strange sadness moved through me.
Six hours earlier, that answer might have taken an argument.
Now it came without hesitation.
The officers left after taking statements.
Before she walked out, Officer Bennett gave me her card.
“If Patricia contacts you, save everything.”
Then she lowered her voice.
“And if she comes back, do not open the door.”
Ethan stood at the window after the police car disappeared.
“I should have seen it.”
I didn’t answer.
Because I didn’t know what he wanted from me.
Forgiveness?
Comfort?
I had none to give.
Lily was sleeping against my chest.
That was all I cared about.
Then Ethan’s phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen.
“Unknown number.”
“Don’t answer.”
It stopped.
Then mine rang.
Unknown number.
We stared at each other.
It stopped.
A message appeared.
YOU SHOULD ASK YOUR HUSBAND WHAT HE SIGNED THREE WEEKS AGO.
My mouth went dry.
I held up the phone.
Ethan read it.
His face changed.
“What did you sign?”
“Nothing.”
“Think.”
“I sign contracts every day at work.”
“Something for your mother?”
“No.”
“Something about me?”
“No.”
His voice was too quick.
I stared at him.
“Ethan.”
He turned away.
That was when I knew.
“What did you sign?”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“It wasn’t what you think.”
“What did you sign?”
“A medical release.”
My heart stopped.
“For who?”
“You.”
I felt as if someone had pulled the floor out from under me.
“You signed something giving Patricia access to my medical information?”
“No.”
“What did you sign?”
“She gave me papers from a family attorney.”
I stared at him.
“An attorney?”
“She said it was just in case you had a serious postpartum crisis.”
My voice barely worked.
“What papers?”
“She said they would let me make emergency decisions for Lily.”
“You are already Lily’s father.”
“I know that now.”
“What do you mean, now?”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
I stood so quickly pain shot through my abdomen.
Lily stirred.
I lowered my voice.
“You signed legal papers without telling me six days after I gave birth?”
“Before you gave birth.”
I froze.
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
My hands went numb.
Patricia had begun this before Lily was born.
“How long has your mother been telling you I’m unstable?”
Ethan looked at the floor.
“A couple months.”
I nearly laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because the betrayal was too large to fit inside one emotion.
“You let her plan this while I was pregnant.”
“I didn’t know she was planning anything.”
“You signed papers.”
“She told me it was protection.”
“Against your wife?”
“Against an emergency.”
“Which she created.”
His eyes filled.
“I know.”
“No. You don’t.”
I walked upstairs.
He followed.
“Emily.”
“Stay away from me.”
“Please.”
I entered the nursery and shut the door.
He didn’t try to open it.
For the first time since we came home from the hospital, the house was quiet.
Lily slept.
I sat in the rocking chair and stared at her tiny face.
Then I looked at the camera above her crib.
Patricia had forgotten it was there.
That camera had saved me.
Or maybe delayed whatever she intended.
I opened the camera application on my phone.
There were days of archived recordings.
I had never checked them.
Why would I?
The camera was meant to let us see Lily sleeping.
I scrolled backward.
One day.
Two days.
Three.
Then I found something.
Tuesday.
2:14 a.m.
Patricia entered the nursery alone.
She wasn’t carrying Lily.
She walked directly to the camera.
For a moment, I thought she was going to disable it.
Instead she stood beneath it and made a phone call.
I turned up the volume.
“Marcus, he signed it.”
A pause.
“No, he didn’t read everything.”
My stomach clenched.
“He trusts me.”
Another pause.
“Emily is the only problem.”
Patricia walked to Lily’s empty crib and touched the blanket.
“She’ll fight.”
A man’s faint voice came through the phone.
I couldn’t understand the words.
Patricia answered.
“Then we make sure nobody believes her.”
I stopped breathing.
Another pause.
Then Patricia said something worse.
“Just like we did with Daniel.”
Daniel.
Ethan’s father.
I replayed the sentence.
“Just like we did with Daniel.”
My fingers went cold.
I opened the nursery door.
“Ethan.”
He was sitting on the hallway floor.
He stood immediately.
“What happened?”
“Your father’s name was Daniel, right?”
His expression changed.
“Yes.”
“Come here.”
We listened to the recording together.
When Patricia said his father’s name, Ethan turned white.
He replayed it.
Again.
Again.
Then he whispered, “No.”
“What?”
“My dad didn’t just die.”
“What do you mean?”
Ethan looked at me.
“When I was nine, my mother told everyone his accident happened because he was exhausted.”
His breathing became uneven.
“But before he died, I remember them fighting.”
“Your parents?”
“Yes.”
“About Marcus?”
“I don’t know.”
He sat down.
“There was one night Dad packed a suitcase.”
My heart pounded.
“He told me we were going somewhere.”
“Where?”
“He never said.”
Ethan stared at nothing.
“Mom came downstairs. They screamed at each other. Marcus was there.”
I felt a chill.
“Before your father died?”
“Yes.”
“How soon before?”
Ethan looked at me.
“The night before.”
Neither of us spoke.
Then the doorbell rang.
Three hard presses.
One after another.
Ethan moved toward the stairs.
I grabbed his arm.
“No.”
The doorbell rang again.
Then someone pounded on the front door.
Ethan checked the camera.
A middle-aged man stood outside.
Gray hair.
Dark jacket.
A long scar beside his mouth.
Ethan stopped breathing.
“Who is that?”
He turned the phone toward me.
“That’s Marcus.”
Marcus looked directly into our security camera.
Then held up a folder.
“I know you’re watching,” he shouted.
Ethan didn’t move.
Marcus smiled.
“Your mother lied to you.”
He placed the folder against the front door.
Then he said something that made Ethan grip the wall.
“Daniel Carter was not your biological father.”
May you like
He stepped back.
“And Patricia knows exactly who was.”
