Chapter 6
Daniel arrived the next morning with two suitcases and a fury he tried to hide from Rosie.
He failed a little.
Not because he yelled.
Because his eyes filled the moment she ran to him.
“Uncle Danny!”
He dropped to one knee and held out his arms.
Rosie hesitated.
Then she climbed into them.
He closed his eyes like he had been waiting years for that hug.
“I missed you, button.”
“I missed you too.”
She touched his beard.
“You look scratchy.”
He laughed through tears.
“I am scratchy.”
For twenty minutes, the house felt almost normal.
Then my lawyer called.
Her name was Elaine Porter.
She was sharp, direct, and had represented my company for years.
I put her on speaker in my office while Daniel sat across from me.
Elaine did not waste time.
“Your sister filed a police complaint against you.”
“I expected that.”
“She claims you attacked her without cause.”
“There were witnesses.”
“There were relatives,” Elaine corrected. “There is a difference.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
Elaine continued.
“Your parents have given statements supporting her.”
I looked out the window.
Of course they had.
“They also intend to petition for grandparent visitation.”
My hand went still.
“No.”
“They may argue you are isolating Rosie after a violent outburst.”
Daniel stood.
“That’s insane.”
Elaine’s voice remained calm.
“That doesn’t mean it won’t be attempted.”
I thought of Rosie asking if Grandma could come over.
I thought of her flinching at the doorbell.
Then I thought of Megan.
Protect her.
“What do you need?” I asked.
“Everything. Videos. Medical records. Texts. Witnesses. Anyone who saw patterns.”
I laughed once without humor.
“My family made sure everything happened behind closed doors.”
“Then we open doors.”
After the call, Daniel leaned forward.
“What about the old nanny?”
I frowned.
“Sofia?”
“She quit six months after Megan died.”
“She said she had family issues.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Megan told me Sofia was worried about your mother.”
I found Sofia’s number buried in an old contact list.
My thumb hovered before I called.
She answered in Spanish.
When she realized it was me, she went quiet.
“Mr. Mark.”
“I need to ask about Rosie.”
A long pause.
Then she whispered, “Is she safe now?”
My chest tightened.
“Now?”
Sofia began to cry.
“I tried to tell you. Your mother said I was lying. She said you would fire me and make sure I never worked again.”
I gripped the phone.
“What did she do?”
“She called Rosie weak. She took food if Rosie cried. Bethany pinched her arms. Your father shouted. Not every day, but enough.”
Daniel covered his face.
I asked, “Why didn’t you report it?”
“I should have. I was afraid. I am sorry.”
Her apology sounded real.
Still, sorry could not erase what Rosie had endured.
“Will you tell my lawyer?”
“Yes,” she said immediately. “I have photos.”
I stopped breathing.
“What photos?”
“Bruises. Laundry room. Messages from your mother.”
For the first time since dinner, hope entered the room.
May you like
Not soft hope.
Fighting hope.
