Chapter 5: What the Attorney Said
Margaret picked up on the second ring.
"Victor.
It's past eleven."
"I know.
I'm sorry."
A pause.
The sound of a lamp clicking on.
"Tell me."
I told her everything.
The foyer.
Ethan's arm.
Lily's photos.
Diane Marsh.
The forged reference letter.
The text from the officer.
I spoke for six minutes without stopping.
Margaret didn't interrupt once.
When I finished, she said, "Where is Serena now?"
"I don't know.
She was still at the house when the ambulance left."
"And your son?"
"At the hospital.
Hairline fracture.
He's stable."
"Okay." Her voice had shifted.
The tired edge was gone.
"First thing tomorrow, I need Lily's photos transferred to me directly.
Original files, not screenshots.
Timestamps must be intact.
Second, I need Diane Marsh's contact information and a written summary of what she told you tonight.
Third, do not speak to Serena, her attorney, or anyone connected to her without me present.
Not a word.
Not a text.
Nothing."
"Understood."
"Victor." She paused.
"How long was she in your home?"
"Eight months."
Silence on the line.
"Eight months," Margaret repeated.
Quietly.
Like she was writing it down.
"I was away a lot.
Work.
I thought —" I stopped.
"I thought Ethan was safe."
"You came home early tonight."
"Yes."
"That matters," she said.
"Get some sleep if you can.
I'll be at your office at eight."
She ended the call.
I went back into Ethan's room.
He was awake.
Lying on his back, looking at the ceiling, his good arm moving slowly like he was watching something invisible drift past.
The way babies do.
Like the air is full of things adults have stopped being able to see.
I pulled the chair close to the bed and sat down.
"Hey," I said.
He turned his head toward my voice.
His eyes found my face.
He made a small sound.
Not distress.
Something closer to recognition.
I put my hand on his chest.
Felt it rise and fall.
We stayed like that for a long time.
---
In the morning, I called Lily before I called anyone else.
She answered immediately, like she hadn't slept.
"How is he?" she said.
"Fracture.
He'll heal.
How are you?"
A long pause.
"I keep thinking I should have shown you sooner."
"Lily —"
"I know what you're going to say.
But I keep thinking about the days in between.
The days I waited."
"You were protecting yourself," I said.
"She threatened you.
You built a case anyway.
You called Diane Marsh.
You kept him as safe as you could." I stopped.
"You did more than most people would have done."
She didn't answer right away.
"She's going to say I'm lying," Lily said finally.
"Her attorney is going to say I fabricated the photos.
That I had a reason to make her look bad."
"Margaret Osei is handling our side.
She's not going to let that stand."
"Who's Diane Marsh's lawyer?"
"She doesn't have one yet.
But she's willing to testify."
Another pause.
"Serena doesn't know about Diane."
"No," I said.
"She doesn't."
I heard Lily exhale.
A long, slow breath.
Like something she'd been holding for weeks was finally moving.
"Okay," she said.
"Okay.
Tell me what you need me to do."
---
Margaret arrived at my office at five minutes to eight.
She had a leather folder, a coffee she hadn't touched, and an expression that meant she had already been working for two hours.
She sat across from me and opened the folder.
"Serena's attorney sent a letter this morning," she said.
"They're claiming the injury occurred during a fall.
They're suggesting Lily was the one present when it happened and that Serena was attempting to comfort the child when you arrived."
I stared at her.
"They're going to blame Lily."
"They're going to try," Margaret said.
"Which is why the timestamps on those photos matter enormously.
Three separate dates of bruising, all predating last night, all documented before any accusation was made.
That's not a fabrication.
That's a record."
She slid a document across the desk.
"I've also filed for an emergency protective order this morning.
Serena Calloway is to have no contact with Ethan, with you, or with Lily pending the investigation."
I looked at the document.
Serena's full name printed in clean black type.
"She forged a reference letter," I said.
"From Diane Marsh.
That means she's done this before and walked away clean."
"Which is why Diane Marsh's testimony is the second pillar of this case," Margaret said.
"A prior incident.
A prior pattern.
A forged document that enabled her to enter your home under false pretenses." She looked at me steadily.
"Victor, this is not a difficult case to build.
What it requires is that no one on our side makes a mistake before we're ready."
"What kind of mistake?"
"Confronting her.
Contacting her.
Saying anything that gives her attorney a reason to reframe you as the aggressor." She picked up her coffee.
"She is going to push.
She is going to send messages, or have someone else send them.
She may show up somewhere she knows you'll be.
She is calculating right now what move gives her the best exit."
"I know how she thinks," I said.
"Then you know she's not finished."
My phone buzzed on the desk between us.
We both looked at it.
A message from an unknown number.
Different from Diane's.
*Drop this and I'll disappear quietly.
Push it and I'll make sure everyone knows what kind of father leaves a fourteen-month-old with a stranger for weeks at a time.*
Margaret read it over my hand.
She didn't flinch.
"Screenshot that," she said.
"Send it to me immediately."
"She just threatened me."
May you like
"She just made our case stronger." Margaret closed her folder.
"Let her keep going."
