Chapter 2 - THE CHILD IN THE SERVICE WING
Officer Grant entered Blackwood House with two patrol officers and Paramedic Cole.
I had moved neither the cup nor the spilled tea.
Lily sat on the settee beside me with an ice pack against her cheek. She remained conscious, alert, and physically stable, but she flinched whenever Nora raised her voice from the opposite end of the room.
Nora insisted the slap had been accidental.
Grant looked at the red handprint across Lily’s face.
“An open hand does not accidentally cross a room.”
“She frightened me.”
“She stopped Mr. Blackwood from drinking.”
“She has behavioral problems.”
Lily pressed closer to my side.
Paramedic Cole examined her jaw, pupils, hearing, and neck.
“No sign of serious injury,” he said. “She should still be evaluated if pain increases.”
Then he looked at the tea.
“Did anyone swallow any?”
“No.”
“A sip?”
“The rim touched my mouth.”
He checked my pulse and blood pressure.
Both were elevated, but panic explained that.
The fire department’s hazardous-materials officer sealed the remaining tea, fragments of porcelain, teapot, sugar bowl, and Nora’s serving tray.
Nora watched every evidence bag.
Grant noticed.
He asked who prepared the drink.
“I did,” she said.
“For Mr. Blackwood?”
“Yes.”
“Did anyone else touch it?”
“No.”
The answer was either honesty or a confession she did not yet understand.
Police searched Nora’s handbag and room under my consent and the developing probable cause.
They found no obvious poison.
They found cash, two prepaid phones, Lily’s birth certificate under the name Lily Anne Hale, and a key card for a private medical facility called Havenridge House.
The birth certificate listed Nora as guardian.
No father appeared.
The mother’s name was Rose Hale.
Lily shook her head when Grant showed her the document.
“Mommy’s name isn’t Rose.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nora said I can’t say.”
“You are safe here.”
Lily looked up at me.
“Claire.”
The room became soundless.
Nora closed her eyes.
I wanted to seize her by the shoulders and demand six years from her body.
Instead, I remembered the slap she had just delivered and the terror on Lily’s face.
Anger had already filled enough of the room.
Grant separated Nora for questioning.
She refused to answer without an attorney.
The hidden phone remained locked. A digital technician preserved it and placed it in a shielded evidence pouch to prevent remote deletion.
Before it disappeared into the bag, I saw the wallpaper.
Claire sat beside a narrow hospital window.
Her face was thinner than I remembered. Her hair had been cut short. One hand rested against the glass while Lily pressed her palm to the other side.
The photograph was recent.
Claire had been declared dead for six years.
I had buried an urn because the clinic claimed the fire left no body intact enough for viewing.
Nora’s attorney arrived within an hour.
So did Victor Blackwood.
My uncle entered with silver hair damp from the rain and concern arranged perfectly across his face.
“I came as soon as security called.”
No one had called him.
I had disabled family notifications before dialing the police.
Victor’s gaze found Lily.
For one second, recognition crossed his face.
Then he asked, “Who is the child?”
Lily gripped my sleeve.
Victor looked at the open locket.
His hand tightened around his walking cane.
Officer Grant asked how he knew an incident had occurred.
Victor smiled.
“Blackwood House alerts me whenever its security system is locked.”
I had never authorized that access.
Grant asked him to remain for a statement.
Victor answered calmly.
“Of course.”
Then his phone vibrated.
May you like
The screen lit before he turned it over.
ROSE TRANSFER FAILED.
