Chapter 4 - FOUR MEDICAL BRACELETS
Vanessa reached into the closet and pulled out a folder.
Nathan kept Lily’s phone in his hand. “Leave it on the dresser.”
She dropped the folder there. “I didn’t want the girls around your meetings, Nathan. But I wasn’t the one who told the housekeeper to lock the west wing.”
Nathan frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Open it.”
Inside were copies of household instructions with his electronic signature. One directed staff to keep the girls out of common areas during visits from investors. Another restricted meals to the west wing during evening events.
Nathan had never read them.
He recognized the signature, though. Months earlier, his chief operating officer, Peter Vale, had sent stacks of documents to his phone while Nathan rushed between meetings. Nathan had approved them in batches.
“That doesn’t explain the food,” he said.
“No,” Vanessa replied. “It doesn’t.”
For the first time, she sounded less certain.
Downstairs, the front door opened. Rachel called his name. The pediatrician had advised an immediate visit to a local clinic, and Rachel had arranged a car.
Nathan took the folder and went down. Vanessa followed.
Emma saw her and stopped eating.
“We’re going with Aunt Rachel,” Nathan said.
Vanessa stepped aside, but as Lily passed, she said, “You could have told him everything.”
Lily grabbed Nathan’s hand.
At the clinic, the doctor examined the girls one by one. Nathan waited in a room with paper snowflakes taped to the windows. Every few minutes, a nurse emerged with another question: How long had they been cold? What had they eaten that day? Had anyone noticed they were losing weight?
Nathan answered what he knew.
It wasn’t enough.
Rachel came out holding four medical bracelets in her fist. “They want the girls to stay overnight.”
“Okay.”
“Nathan.” Her voice broke. “Grace says the kitchen door was locked most nights.”
A police officer arrived to take a report. Nathan gave her the phone and the notes he had found. She asked who controlled the household staff.
Nathan started to say Vanessa.
Then he remembered the man on the recording.
“Peter Vale had access,” he said. “To the house, the payroll, everything.”
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His own phone lit up with a message from Peter.
I heard there was trouble at the house. Don’t show anyone the folder. Call me first.
