Chương 6
The hallway felt colder than the room.
Christopher told Rebecca everything Emma had said in the ambulance.
He did not soften it.
He also did not tell it cleanly.
The account came in pieces, interrupted by questions and corrections and Rebecca saying “what” twice because she could not make the words fit together.
When Christopher reached the part about Juliette stepping on Emma’s hand, Rebecca went silent.
When he mentioned the pregnancy, she stared at him for three full seconds.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I didn’t know.”
Rebecca folded her arms.
Her face had gone red across the cheekbones.
“She told Emma before she told you?”
“Apparently.”
“And told her the baby meant she should live with me more?”
Christopher nodded.
Rebecca looked toward the ceiling.
“Jesus Christ.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
He flinched.
Rebecca stepped closer.
“You don’t get to know.”
“Rebecca.”
“How long has Emma been uncomfortable around her?”
Christopher said nothing.
That was answer enough.
Rebecca’s expression shifted.
Not triumph.
Not even anger.
Disappointment.
It made him feel smaller.
“She told me Juliette was strict,” Rebecca said.
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
Christopher stared at her.
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I asked Emma if she felt unsafe.”
“What did she say?”
“She said no.”
Rebecca’s voice cracked slightly.
“She said Juliette didn’t like her touching things.”
Christopher looked through the narrow glass panel in the door.
Emma was watching television without sound.
“She told me Juliette was mean.”
“And?”
“I told her to make an effort.”
Rebecca shut her eyes.
Christopher said, “I know.”
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t turn this into you punishing yourself because that will somehow become another thing everyone has to manage.”
The words stung because they were true.
He looked away.
Rebecca leaned against the wall.
“What happened at the house after you left?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you call the police?”
“No.”
Her head snapped toward him.
“Why not?”
“Because I was with Emma.”
“You have a phone.”
“I know.”
“Christopher.”
“I didn’t know what was true.”
Rebecca stared at him.
“Our daughter told you Juliette pushed her into a pool and stepped on her hand.”
“She told me in the ambulance.”
“And now?”
He looked down at his phone.
“Now I call.”
Rebecca watched him dial.
Christopher gave the dispatcher the address, his name, Emma’s name, and a factual description of what she had reported.
He also stated that he had struck Juliette after pulling Emma from the pool.
Rebecca turned toward him sharply.
He kept speaking.
“Yes, I slapped her.”
The dispatcher asked whether Juliette needed medical attention.
“I don’t know.”
Another question.
“She was conscious when I left.”
Another.
“No weapon.”
Another.
“Yes, staff witnessed at least part of it.”
Christopher ended the call three minutes later.
Rebecca stared at him.
“You told them about hitting her.”
“Yes.”
“You know what that could mean.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He looked at her.
She did not apologize.
He did not expect her to.
A detective called twenty minutes later.
Christopher answered in the hallway while Rebecca stayed with Emma.
The detective identified herself as Lena Ortiz and said officers were already at the residence.
She wanted Christopher not to contact Juliette about the incident and asked whether surveillance cameras covered the pool courtyard.
Christopher felt a spark of hope so sharp it almost hurt.
“Yes.”
Then the hope collapsed.
The courtyard cameras had been disabled two days earlier.
He remembered the security contractor mentioning a network upgrade.
“Were they disabled today?”
Ortiz asked.
“Yes.”
“By whom?”
“Our security company.”
“Do you know the company name?”
Christopher gave it to her.
“Any interior cameras facing the French doors?”
“One in the rear hall.”
“Does it capture the pool?”
“Part of it.”
“Is the footage cloud-stored?”
“I think so.”
Ortiz paused.
“Don’t access it.”
Christopher frowned.
“I have the app.”
“Don’t open it.”
“Why?”
“Because if this becomes evidence, I’d rather preserve access records and have the original system handled properly.”
He pressed his thumb against the edge of his phone.
“All right.”
“Did your wife know the pool cameras were offline?”
Christopher hesitated.
“She knew contractors were working on the system.”
“Did Emma?”
“No.”
“Did household staff?”
“Probably.”
Ortiz asked for the names of everyone who had been present.
Christopher gave them.
When he said Nina’s name, the detective stopped him.
“She’s the one who told you she heard your wife tell the child to let go?”
“Yes.”
“And Teresa mentioned broken glass?”
“Yes.”
Ortiz was silent for a beat.
“We’re going to separate the witnesses.”
Christopher glanced toward Emma’s room.
“What about Juliette?”
“She’s here.”
His body tightened.
“What is she saying?”
“I’m not discussing her statement with you right now.”
“Is she being arrested?”
“Not at this stage.”
Anger surged before Christopher could stop it.
“My daughter said she pushed her into the pool.”
“And we’re documenting that.”
“She could leave.”
“If legal grounds develop to prevent that, we’ll act.”
Christopher nearly snapped back.
Then he remembered the rules he demanded from his own employees whenever emotions ran high.
Facts first.
Process second.
Everything else afterward.
He hated that those principles still applied when the frightened child was his.
Ortiz said, “There’s something else.”
Christopher waited.
“Your wife has reported the assault.”
He closed his eyes.
“Okay.”
“She has visible injury.”
“I understand.”
“She says you accused her of trying to kill Emma and struck her without warning.”
“That’s accurate.”
“She also says Emma fell accidentally and that your accusation caused the staff to change their accounts.”
Christopher opened his eyes.
“That’s not accurate.”
“Maybe.”
Ortiz’s tone remained even.
“But I need you to understand that from this point forward, everyone’s credibility matters, including yours.”
Christopher stared through the window at his daughter.
Emma had fallen asleep with her head against Rebecca’s shoulder.
“What happens now?”
“We figure out what we can prove.”
May you like
Christopher looked at the red petal still stuck to the cuff of the hospital sweatshirt he had pulled over his damp shirt without noticing.
For the first time since leaving the mansion, he understood that loving Emma fiercely would not be enough to protect her.
