Chapter 6 - THE POLICE REPORT
Marcus knew because Daniel was standing behind them.
The officers entered with a court order.
A judge had signed it less than an hour earlier.
Emergency welfare evaluation.
For me.
Daniel had reported that I had suffered a violent psychological break at the wedding.
He claimed I attacked him without warning.
He claimed I kidnapped Lily from a lawful family event.
He claimed I had become paranoid and delusional about financial conspiracies.
And two witnesses supported him.
Margaret.
Robert.
I laughed when the officer read it.
That was another mistake.
Daniel watched from the hallway.
“Claire, please.”
“Don’t.”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“You hit my daughter.”
His face fell in practiced pain.
“She hit herself against the wall.”
Lily screamed.
“You liar!”
Daniel looked at the officer.
“You see?”
The officer crouched.
“Lily, sweetheart—”
“Don’t call me sweetheart!”
Daniel sighed.
“This is what I’ve been dealing with.”
Marcus stepped between us.
“My client will cooperate with questioning, but she is not surrendering her daughter to Mr. Harper.”
Daniel smiled.
“Actually, I have temporary custodial authority.”
He produced another document.
I stared at it.
It carried my signature.
Again.
Forged.
Marcus read it.
“When was this executed?”
“Last month.”
“I never signed that,” I said.
Daniel looked at me with pity.
“You did.”
The officer’s expression changed.
Not convinced.
Concerned.
About me.
That frightened me more than anger would have.
Marcus whispered,
“Give me the flash drive.”
I slipped it into his hand.
Then he spoke louder.
“My client will submit to voluntary medical evaluation at County General.”
Daniel immediately objected.
“She needs Hawthorne.”
There.
Too fast.
Too desperate.
One officer noticed.
“Why specifically Hawthorne?”
Daniel paused.
“My family doctor works there.”
“Name?”
“Dr. Emmett Shaw.”
The officer wrote it down.
Marcus looked at me.
That name was on the transport document.
We agreed to County General.
Daniel followed.
At the hospital, a psychiatrist interviewed me for forty-five minutes.
Then Lily.
Separately.
Then Jenna.
Daniel demanded to be included.
The doctor refused.
After two hours, she returned.
“You’re not psychotic.”
I nearly cried.
“Thank you.”
“But there’s a complication.”
My relief vanished.
“What?”
“Someone altered your medical records.”
She turned the monitor toward me.
For the previous six months, my file contained psychiatric visits I had never attended.
Medications I had never taken.
Episodes I had never experienced.
And every false entry had been submitted by Dr. Emmett Shaw.
Marcus cursed under his breath.
The psychiatrist continued.
“If you had been taken directly to Hawthorne, these records could have been used to justify involuntary commitment.”
“So Daniel planned this for months.”
“Maybe longer.”
Then the doctor looked at Lily’s cheek.
“I also photographed your daughter’s injury.”
For the first time that day, I felt hope.
Until Marcus’s phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
Then went pale.
“What?”
I asked.
He hung up.
“Someone broke into my apartment.”
“The drive?”
He shook his head.
“I have it.”
“Then what did they take?”
May you like
Marcus looked at me.
“Michael’s original accident file.”
