Chapter 8 - Her Own Voice
Emily put the call on speaker.
“I didn’t withdraw anything.”
The billing representative apologized and explained that a note had been added the previous afternoon.
The caller had known Noah’s full name, date of birth, and account details.
Victoria had collected those details when she offered to “handle the paperwork.”
Emily pressed a hand over her eyes.
“What happens now?”
“We can correct the request,” the woman said. “Your son’s treatment is continuing. I’m also flagging the account for additional verification.”
Emily lowered her hand.
Something changed in her face.
Fear was still there.
But it had company now.
Anger.
“Please save the call record.”
The representative paused.
“I’ll refer that request to our privacy office.”
Afterward, Emily stared at the phone.
“She wanted me to think there was nothing left.”
I didn’t argue.
Her own attorney, Denise Walker, met with her that afternoon. I paid an initial fee through an arrangement both lawyers approved, but Denise made the boundary clear.
“Emily is my client. Decisions are hers.”
“Understood.”
“No reports to you without her permission.”
“Understood.”
Emily looked relieved.
That hurt in a useful way.
I was learning how often help came with a hand around somebody’s choices.
Two days later, a detective called.
The photograph Victoria deleted had been recovered from Emily’s recently deleted folder when police examined her phone.
The termination agreement was visible.
So was the date.
It had been prepared three days before the assault.
Three days before the supposed childcare emergency.
Meanwhile, the house security system showed Victoria arriving home that afternoon, carrying her handbag and a shopping bag.
Emily never left.
No stranger entered.
At 4:11, Victoria walked out onto the patio with a fresh glass of wine.
Inside, Emily was still tied to the bed.
The detective didn’t describe what that footage made him feel.
He didn’t need to.
That evening, Noah opened his eyes and asked Emily why her wrists looked like a mummy’s.
“I got hurt,” she told him.
“Did a doctor fix you?”
“They helped.”
“Good.”
Then he lifted a stuffed astronaut from his pillow.
“You can borrow Captain.”
Emily took it and cried silently over his plastic helmet.
My phone vibrated.
A message from Hannah.
Emergency hearing tomorrow morning. Victoria is requesting that the twins be returned to her care immediately.
I looked through the glass at Emily holding Noah’s toy.
May you like
Then I called Grace.
“We need to be ready.”
