Chương 6
Diane had taken the phone.
He sent the clips to Officer Markham, then to Gail Patterson because he no longer trusted any single path to keep evidence from disappearing.
At seven thirty, Diane called.
Ethan watched her name on the screen until the ringing stopped.
She called again.
On the third attempt, he answered.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“With my son.”
“I need to speak to you alone.”
“No.”
“Ethan, the police are treating this like a crime.”
He almost laughed. “It is a crime.”
“You were not there.”
“I heard the monitor recording.”
Silence.
In the background he heard a car door close.
“What recording?” Diane asked.
“You took Hannah’s phone.”
“She was calling people and making herself more hysterical.”
“She was calling a doctor.”
“She had already called. They told her someone would respond.”
“You turned off the baby monitor.”
“I unplugged it because it was making a noise.”
“You turned it toward the wall.”
“I moved it while I was cleaning.”
“You told Ray to keep me at Fulton.”
“I told him you had work to do.”
“At six twenty-one in the morning, you said Hannah was unstable and that you and Brittany needed a few hours without me.”
Another silence.
When Diane spoke again, her voice lost some of its sharpness. “She has never liked me.”
Ethan leaned his forehead against the cool glass beside Noah’s bed.
“This isn’t about whether she likes you.”
“She has been trying to separate you from us since the wedding.”
“No.”
“She moved you out of the apartment near the office.”
“We moved because the plumbing leaked sewage into the kitchen.”
“She refused Christmas at my house.”
“She had the flu.”
“She criticizes me in front of you.”
“You criticize everyone in front of everyone.”
“That is not the same.”
It was so completely his mother’s answer that Ethan could see her saying it: chin raised, eyes wounded by the existence of standards applied equally.
“What did you do with Hannah’s phone?”
“I left it on the counter.”
“It was found in a hospital trash can.”
Diane breathed in.
He waited.
“I don’t know anything about that.”
“You brought it to the hospital.”
“No.”
“Hannah said you had it when the paramedics came.”
“Hannah said many things.”
“Don’t.”
“Her behavior was frightening, Ethan. She threatened to smash a window while holding a newborn. She was sweating and crying and talking so fast Brittany could barely understand her. She tried to push past me. She nearly fell.”
“She wanted a hospital.”
“She needed to calm down.”
“Noah needed a hospital.”
“We did not know he had a fever.”
“She told you he was hot.”
“She had said that every night since he came home.”
Ethan looked at Noah’s face beneath the soft blue light.
“Why did you tie her hands?”
“To stop her from scratching Brittany.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
“Hannah says she never touched Brittany.”
“Of course she says that.”
“Did Brittany tell you she was scratched?”
“She didn’t have to.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Nothing about this morning made sense. We did what we could.”
“You took her baby.”
“I protected him.”
“You stopped her from taking him to a doctor.”
“I stopped an unstable woman from running barefoot into the street.”
“She was going to the car.”
“She didn’t have keys.”
“Because you took those too?”
Diane said nothing.
A machine gave a quiet alert. A nurse entered, checked the line near Noah’s foot, and silenced it.
Diane’s voice softened. “How is my grandson?”
Ethan looked at the phone as if it belonged to someone else.
“Your grandson is receiving emergency treatment after you decided his mother was the danger.”
“That isn’t fair.”
“No,” he said. “It isn’t.”
He ended the call.
Noah’s fever began to fall after midnight. The first cultures showed no immediate growth, though Dr. Shah warned that the results were preliminary. He accepted another small feeding. His cry gained enough strength to wake the infant in the next room.
Ethan had never been so grateful for an irritating sound.
Hannah was discharged from observation the next morning but allowed to remain in a family room near the neonatal unit. The hospital provided sweatpants and a gray T-shirt because her gown had been collected with the belt and other items from the house.
She stood over Noah’s bed with her bruised arms close to her body.
Ethan waited beside her.
“You can touch him,” Isaac said.
Hannah shook her head.
“He’s stable,” Isaac told her. “Clean hands, gentle contact. That’s all.”
She washed her hands for almost a full minute. Then she placed two fingers against Noah’s shoulder.
He turned his face toward the pressure.
Hannah made a broken sound and bent over the side of the bed.
Ethan started to put an arm around her.
She stiffened.
He let his arm fall.
Later, while Noah slept, they sat in the family room beneath a television mounted too high on the wall. A cooking show played without sound. Someone had left three sugar packets and a plastic spoon on the table.
Hannah folded one packet in half and unfolded it.
“Gail says we can’t go home until the house is assessed,” she said.
“She told me.”
“Your mother still has access.”
“I’ll change the locks.”
“It’s her property.”
“We have a lease.”
“Do we?”
Ethan had checked his email. He found payroll deductions labeled housing but no signed lease. Diane’s office manager said all employment housing records were stored at headquarters.
“I’m working on it,” he said.
Hannah folded the sugar packet again.
“She also said I shouldn’t be alone with Noah until the first home visit.”
Ethan turned toward her. “What?”
“She called it a voluntary safety plan.”
“You didn’t agree.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because the alternative was an emergency meeting where they could ask a judge.”
“You didn’t hurt him.”
“They don’t know that yet.”
“They have the monitor recordings.”
May you like
“They have three clips where I sound panicked.”
“Because you were panicked.”
