Chương 3
Rebecca reached for him, but Lily shifted, and Rebecca’s arm tightened around the child instead.
James noticed.
Something passed across his face before he hid it.
“We’re not doing this,” Rebecca said.
“Doing what?”
“Choosing which one of us should’ve prevented something neither of us believed he would do.”
“I believed it.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I knew he was dangerous.”
“You knew he was loud.”
“I knew he scared her.”
“He scares everyone.”
“That’s not a defense.”
“It isn’t meant to be.”
They stopped.
A cart rattled past in the hallway. Someone laughed at the nurses’ station, then lowered their voice. The ordinary sound seemed offensive, and then Rebecca hated herself for thinking the rest of the hospital should stop because her child was hurt.
James sat back.
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
He glanced at the closed door. “They arrested him.”
Rebecca had expected it. Still, the words landed somewhere below her ribs.
“For what?”
“They didn’t give me a charge. They cuffed him after he kept stepping toward the deputies. Patricia started yelling about his blood pressure. Vanessa cried.”
“Vanessa cried?”
“After they put him in the car.”
Rebecca pictured her sister near the kitchen counter, glass in hand, nodding when Patricia said Lily deserved it.
“Of course she did.”
James heard the bitterness. “She told a deputy she didn’t see the belt make contact.”
“She was six feet away.”
“She said Gerald’s body blocked her view.”
“Did it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe for the exact second.”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
Her mind had already begun constructing the defense case because that was what it had been trained to do. No direct view of impact. Wet floor. Child moving near open cooler. Belt in hand but no visible mark yet. A frightened three-year-old unable to give a consistent account. Relatives with complicated loyalties. A mother who was also a former prosecutor and practicing defense attorney, capable of shaping witness language whether she intended to or not.
She opened her eyes.
“What did Colleen see?”
“She said she saw him swing.”
“Contact?”
“She thinks so.”
“Thinks?”
“She was looking down at her plate right before it happened.”
Rebecca’s grip tightened around Lily without meaning to.
James lowered his voice. “Stop trying the case.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I need to know what happened.”
“You know what happened.”
“Knowing and proving aren’t the same.”
“This is our daughter, not a client.”
“That is exactly why I’m thinking about proof.”
He stood and walked to the window. The blinds were closed, but he tilted one slat and stared into the darkening parking lot.
“They released your mother from the scene,” he said. “Vanessa too. One of them is going to call.”
Rebecca’s phone had been sealed in a plastic belongings bag because Lily had vomited on her trousers during the ambulance ride. She had not asked for it back.
“Turn mine off.”
“It’s evidence if they text you.”
She hated that he was right.
The physician returned just before nine. The scan showed no skull fracture or major bleeding. Lily had a concussion and would be observed overnight because of the seizure-like episode. They could not yet say whether the movement had been a true seizure or an acute response to the impact.
Rebecca thanked the physician in the composed voice she used after favorable rulings.
When the door closed, she bent over Lily and cried without making a sound.
James stood beside them, one hand resting on Rebecca’s shoulder, the other curled against his thigh.
The hospital social worker came back near ten and asked to speak privately.
“There is a complication,” she said.
Rebecca looked toward Lily. “What complication?”
“Because the reported injury occurred in a family setting, and because the alleged offender is the maternal grandfather, child protective services has opened an investigation.”
“My father does not live with us.”
“I understand.”
“He has never been alone with her.”
“I understand.”
“Then investigate him.”
“They will. They also have to assess the child’s home and safety plan.”
James shifted. “Are you saying they’re investigating us?”
“I’m saying the agency has a statutory duty to determine whether Lily can safely return home and whether there were prior warning signs.”
Rebecca stared at the woman.
There were moments in court when a client heard only the threat inside a sentence and missed everything else. Rebecca had trained herself to remain still in those moments. She folded her hands on her lap.
“What warning signs?”
“That’s part of what they will ask.”
“We called 911 immediately.”
“Yes.”
“We cooperated.”
“Yes.”
“My husband physically blocked the assailant.”
“Yes.”
The social worker’s expression softened without becoming apologetic. “Those facts matter.”
“But not enough.”
“They have to document them.”
James asked, “Will she be allowed home with us?”
“I can’t promise what another agency will decide, but based on what I’ve heard so far, I would not expect removal. They may ask for a written no-contact plan and a home visit.”
Rebecca looked at Lily’s sleeping face.
“Fine.”
The social worker did not move. “Ms. Hutchinson, there is something else. A deputy mentioned that family members described prior incidents involving your father.”
The room became very quiet.
James turned from the window.
“What incidents?” he asked.
Rebecca knew before the social worker answered.
“An altercation several years ago involving your mother’s wrist. There may have been another incident involving your sister.”
James looked at Rebecca.
She kept her eyes on the social worker.
“Who described them?”
“I don’t have that information.”
“Were police reports made?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then what exactly are you asking me?”
“I’m asking whether you were aware of prior violence.”
James said her name.
Not loudly. He did not need to.
Rebecca stood, careful not to disturb Lily. “I was aware of an accident my mother had ten years ago. She fell in the laundry room and broke her wrist.”
The social worker waited.
May you like
Rebecca could feel James watching her.
“Did you believe it was an accident?” the woman asked.
