Chapter 10
Miles away from the sterile tranquility of St. Jude’s General Hospital, the atmosphere inside the downtown precinct precinct was harsh, smelling of stale coffee, old paper, and bureaucratic indifference. Eleanor sat upright in a metal chair at the center of the interrogation room, her light beige dress unwrinkled, her posture as rigid as ever. Despite the formal police escort that had arrived at her doorstep less than an hour after Leo’s departure, she wore an expression of supreme entitlement, convinced that her status and generational philosophy would shield her from any legal consequences.
The heavy steel door swung open, and Detective Miller—a weary investigator with sharp gray eyes and a tailored suit jacket draped over the back of his chair—stepped into the room. He tossed a thick manila folder onto the metal table with a dull slap, pulling out a chair opposite Eleanor and sitting down slowly. He didn't offer a polite greeting; his gaze was entirely clinical, assessing the woman before him with cold skepticism.
"Mrs. Sterling," Detective Miller began, his voice deep and measured. "We've reviewed the preliminary evidence provided by Mr. Vance, including the medical reports from the hospital detailing severe malnutrition and acute exhaustion, alongside several digital audio files recorded inside your residence over the past week."
Eleanor lifted her chin slightly, her short brown hair framing a face that remained stubbornly defiant. "Those audio files are entirely out of context," she replied smoothly, her tone eerily composed. "A mother instructing her daughter in traditional household management is not a criminal offense. Young people today lack resilience, and I was merely ensuring my daughter fulfilled her domestic obligations."
Detective Miller leaned forward, resting his forearms on the metal table. He opened the manila folder, revealing printed transcripts of text messages and timestamped logs. "Withholding food from a postpartum woman recovering from medical trauma, locking her out of pantry access, and forcing her to stand over a stove for four hours a day despite clear medical warnings from her physicians crosses the line from domestic guidance into reckless endangerment and physical abuse, Mrs. Sterling."
Eleanor scoffed softly, shaking her head as if dealing with an ignorant child. "Medical disclaimers are written by alarmists. My daughter gave birth naturally, and she was simply being dramatic to avoid her responsibilities. I demand to speak to my lawyer immediately."
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"You'll have all the time you want with your attorney," Detective Miller replied, his voice hardening considerably. "Right now, however, you are being formally charged with reckless endangerment, elder and dependent adult neglect, and intentional infliction of emotional distress. Furthermore, a permanent restraining order has been granted by a judge, barring you from any contact with Claire Vance, Leo Vance, or their newborn child."
For the first time since the ordeal began, the impenetrable armor around Eleanor cracked. A sharp gasp escaped her lips, her eyes widening in genuine shock as the gravity of the legal reality set in. The system she believed would protect her traditional worldview was instead dismantling it piece by piece.
