Chapter 2
Dr. Reeves arrived before the police.
He was a silver-haired man with kind eyes and the tired hands of someone who had held too many frightened parents steady.
He listened to Leo’s lungs.
He checked his temperature.
He shined a small light in his eyes.
I stood near the sofa with my hands clasped so tightly my knuckles ached.
Ethan never sat down.
He kept pacing from the fireplace to the window, stopping every few seconds to look at his son.
“Is he burned?” Ethan asked.
“No visible burns,” Dr. Reeves said. “His airway sounds irritated, but he is breathing clearly now.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
“Thank God.”
Dr. Reeves looked at me.
“You got him out quickly.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t speak.
Leo reached for me from Ethan’s arms and started crying again.
Ethan’s face folded.
Not with anger.
With heartbreak.
“It’s all right,” he whispered. “Daddy’s here.”
Leo cried harder.
Dr. Reeves said softly, “Let Sarah hold him for now.”
Ethan hesitated.
Then he handed Leo to me.
The baby settled almost instantly, hiccuping against my shoulder.
Ethan looked like the transfer had cut him open.
Victoria had used that pain for months.
I saw it now.
Every time Leo reached for me instead of Ethan, she had whispered that I was replacing his mother.
Every time Leo cried around her, she had blamed grief.
Or me.
The police arrived ten minutes later.
Two officers took statements.
Ethan gave them the video.
I repeated what I had seen.
Victoria didn’t return.
But her lawyer called before the officers left.
I heard Ethan from the hallway.
“No, Randall. I’m not confused.”
Pause.
“No. She is not welcome here.”
Another pause.
Then Ethan’s voice dropped.
“If your client comes near my son again, I’ll have her arrested myself.”
When he came back in, his face looked older.
“Sarah,” he said, “I need to ask you something.”
Dr. Reeves was packing his bag.
The officers were near the door.
I felt everyone listening.
“What?”
“What did Victoria say when she walked past you?”
My throat tightened.
“She said his mother didn’t protect him either.”
The color left his face.
Dr. Reeves stopped moving.
Ethan whispered, “Say that again.”
I did.
His hands curled into fists.
Leo stirred in my arms.
Ethan forced himself to breathe.
His wife, Caroline, had died when Leo was two months old.
That was all the staff knew.
A sudden fall.
A tragic accident.
A grieving widower.
A motherless baby.
Victoria had arrived at the estate less than four months later as an old family friend “helping” Ethan recover.
By the time I was hired, she already acted like the house belonged to her.
“Mr. Blackwood,” one officer said, “did your fiancée know details about your wife’s death?”
Ethan looked toward the staircase.
“She was here that night.”
My stomach turned.
Dr. Reeves’ expression changed.
“She told me she arrived after Caroline fell.”
Ethan turned to him.
“What?”
The doctor went still.
“She called me before the ambulance. She said she had just arrived and found Caroline at the bottom of the nursery stairs.”
Ethan’s voice was barely there.
“She told me she was upstairs with Leo.”
The room went silent.
Two versions.
One dead woman.
One baby who cried around Victoria like his body remembered something his mouth could not say.
The older officer wrote something down.
“We may need to review the original report.”
Ethan nodded slowly.
“I’ll give you everything.”
After they left, the house felt too quiet.
The mansion sat outside Charleston behind iron gates and ancient oak trees, all white columns and polished floors.
I used to think wealth made people safer.
That evening taught me money only gave secrets nicer rooms to hide in.
Ethan stood at the fireplace, staring at the tiny camera.
“Can you access older footage?” I asked.
He turned.
“The monitor stores thirty days.”
My heart sank.
Caroline died six months ago.
“But the main system backs up motion alerts,” Ethan said.
He looked toward the hall.
“Only Victoria and my security manager have admin access besides me.”
“Then check.”
He opened his laptop on the coffee table.
His fingers flew across the keys.
I sat with Leo sleeping against my chest while Dr. Reeves stayed beside us, pretending to organize papers because none of us wanted to be alone.
Ethan found the folder.
Nursery Motion Alerts.
Files loaded by date.
Most were ordinary.
Me entering with bottles.
Housekeepers dusting.
Leo waking.
Then Ethan stopped.
A file from three weeks earlier.
2:41 a.m.
Victoria entered the nursery.
Leo was crying.
She leaned over his crib and whispered something.
The audio crackled.
Ethan turned up the volume.
“If you had died with her, he would already be mine.”
My breath stopped.
Dr. Reeves sat down hard.
Ethan didn’t move.
The video kept playing.
Victoria reached into her robe pocket and pulled out a small amber bottle.
She dipped something on her finger.
Then touched it to Leo’s pacifier.
“No,” I whispered.
Ethan slammed the laptop shut.
Leo jerked awake and cried.
Ethan backed away like he was afraid his rage might burn the room down.
“What was in the bottle?” I asked.
Dr. Reeves’ face was grim.
“We need the police back.”
But before Ethan could call, the front gate intercom rang.
The security guard’s voice came through.
“Sir, Mrs. Blackwood’s parents are here.”
Caroline’s parents.
Ethan stared at the speaker.
May you like
A woman’s voice cut in, shaking with anger.
“Ethan, open this gate now. Victoria called us. She said Sarah tried to poison Leo.”
