Chapter 7 - The Hospital Corridor
"No! Don't touch her! Daddy!" Vianey’s shrieks tore through the night as the female officer gently but firmly pried her small arms from around my neck.
"It's okay, Vianey," I said, keeping my voice steady even as the cold steel of the handcuffs clicked shut around my wrists behind my back. "Look at me, sweetie. Do not drink or eat anything unless a doctor in a hospital gives it to you. Remember our game?"
"Wait!" Ricardo roared.
With a surge of adrenaline, he shoved Adrian off balance and staggered to his feet, clutching his bruised ribs. His vision was swimming from the blow to his head, and his shirt was soaked with blood and rain, but his eyes locked onto his daughter’s terrified face—and then onto the cuffs on my wrists.
"Let her go," Ricardo breathed, swaying on his feet.
"Sir, you need to sit down until the ambulance arrives," the sergeant said, stepping between us. "Your brother already showed us the digital termination notice from earlier tonight."
"I am Ricardo Vance!" he barked, grabbing the sergeant’s wet uniform sleeve with a bloody hand. "This is my house, and that is my daughter! I am not pressing charges against Elena Rostova for the gate or for trespassing!"
"Ric, you have a head injury, you don't know what you're saying!" Celeste cried, rushing forward to grab his other arm. "She broke in here!"
"Don't touch me, Celeste," Ricardo said, his voice dropping an octave. He looked at the sergeant. "If I go in that ambulance, my daughter goes with me in the back of the rig. Not with my brother. Not with my fiancée. And if you take Elena to the precinct without my consent as the homeowner, my corporate counsel will have your badge by eight o'clock tomorrow morning."
The sergeant hesitated, looking at Mara, who was already filming the entire interaction on her phone while reciting the municipal code regarding homeowner consent in trespass arrests.
Reluctantly, the sergeant unlocked my cuffs.
"She still can't set foot on this property without being cleared of the theft report your brother just filed," the sergeant warned, pointing a finger at my chest. "And she stays away from the kid until Child Protective Services interviews everyone at Swedish Medical Center tonight."
I stood beside Mara’s dented SUV, rubbing my bruised wrists as the paramedics loaded Ricardo and a sobbing Vianey into the back of the ambulance. Before the rear doors closed, Ricardo looked right at me through the flashing red lights.
In his eyes, the blind fog of the last two years had finally shattered. In its place was horror—and a silent plea.
Prove it, his look said. Bring me everything.
As the ambulance pulled away with a police escort, Adrian walked past Mara’s car toward his Mercedes. He paused beside my window, out of earshot of the remaining officers.
"Nice stunt with the gate, nanny," Adrian whispered, leaning down as he adjusted his cuffs. "Too bad the house servers automatically overwrite security footage every six hours when I put the system in maintenance mode. By the time your little lawyer files a subpoena tomorrow morning, there won't be a single frame of Celeste near your suitcase—or anything else in that house."
He smiled, patted the roof of the car, and walked away.
I waited until his taillights disappeared down the drive before turning to Mara.
"He thinks the house cameras only back up to the server rack in the basement," I said softly.
May you like
Mara arched an eyebrow. "Don't they?"
"The external security cameras do," I said, reaching into my boot and pulling out a tiny brass key. "Not the nanny cam Vianey and I hid inside her stuffed bear's bow tie after her favorite silver music box went missing last month."
