Chapter 3 - What the Doctor FoundRosie fell asleep in the car before we reached the emergency department.

I hated waking her.

She had cried herself into exhaustion, and when I unbuckled her seat belt, she whimpered without opening her eyes.

"Just me, sweetheart."

Her fingers found my collar.

"Don't let her get me."

I stopped moving.

Those six words frightened me more than anything that had happened inside the mansion.

Because Rosie hadn't asked whether Celeste would hurt her again.

She had asked me not to let Celeste get her.

As though this fear had been living inside her for a long time.

The pediatric emergency physician was named Dr. Elena Ruiz.

She spoke softly and waited until Rosie agreed before examining her arm.

There was bruising near the upper portion of her left arm.

A small abrasion marked her elbow.

Fortunately, the examination showed no obvious fracture or dislocation.

"Her arm is sore, but she has good movement," Dr. Ruiz explained. "We should be able to manage the discomfort with rest and appropriate pain relief."

I nodded.

"Will you document the bruising?"

"Of course."

She studied me.

"Would you like to tell me what happened?"

Before I could answer, Rosie spoke.

"Aunt Celeste pulled me."

The doctor turned toward her.

"She pulled you?"

Rosie nodded.

"Real hard."

"Did you fall?"

"On my bottom."

"And how do you feel now?"

Rosie looked at me before answering.

"Scared."

Dr. Ruiz's expression changed.

Not dramatically.

She simply set down her pen and moved closer.

"Are you scared right now?"

Rosie shook her head.

"Daddy's here."

I felt something break inside my chest.

For months, I'd told myself Rosie was doing well after losing Hannah.

She laughed at cartoons.

She loved strawberry pancakes.

She insisted on sleeping with three stuffed rabbits, even though there was barely enough room for her.

I had confused functioning with feeling safe.

The doctor finished documenting the examination.

She explained that medical staff might need to make a report about suspected child abuse, depending on the circumstances and applicable requirements.

"I understand," I said.

And I did.

Whatever happened next, I wanted it documented properly.

Not buried in family arguments.

Not reduced to another ugly story at another Whitcomb dinner.

When Rosie finally fell asleep again, I stepped into the hallway and called my attorney.

Leah Price had handled Hannah's estate after her death.

She answered on the fourth ring.

"Daniel?"

"Something happened at the Whitcomb mansion."

I described the fall, Victor grabbing me, the toppled statue, and Celeste's accusation.

Leah listened without interrupting.

Then I told her about June's seating chart.

There was a long silence.

"Do you still have it?"

"Yes."

"Photograph it. Keep the original. Don't write anything on it."

"Why?"

"Because I need you to understand something about Hannah's inheritance."

I leaned against the wall.

"I thought we already settled that."

"We settled her personal estate. Her beneficial interest in the Whitcomb family trust is different."

My throat tightened.

"Rosie inherits that when she's older, right?"

"Rosie already has a beneficial interest. The trust controls when and how distributions occur."

"And?"

"And I've been trying to obtain an accounting from the current trustees for months."

I remembered several emails Leah had sent over the summer.

I'd barely read them.

Every document connected to Hannah still felt like a wound.

"What's the problem?"

"Malcolm's management company operates the mansion. The trustees have reported unusually high maintenance and administrative expenses."

"How high?"

"High enough that I asked for supporting records."

"Did they send them?"

"No."

A nurse rolled a cart past me.

I stepped aside.

"Leah, are you saying they took Rosie's money?"

"I'm saying there are unanswered questions, and we don't yet have enough evidence to conclude that."

Her caution irritated me.

I wanted a clear enemy.

A clear explanation.

Something I could fight.

Instead, she asked another question.

"Why were you invited tonight?"

"It's the family gala."

"Daniel, you and Rosie haven't attended one since Hannah's funeral."

I went quiet.

She was right.

Celeste had called three days earlier.

Her voice had been unusually warm.

She said the family wanted to make amends.

She said Rosie deserved to feel connected to her mother's side.

And when I hesitated, she used the one argument guaranteed to work.

Hannah would have wanted her daughter there.

I'd believed her.

Or maybe I'd wanted to.

Leah sighed.

"There's a trustees' meeting next Thursday."

"What kind of meeting?"

"One involving a proposed refinancing and possible sale of an interest in the mansion property."

My stomach tightened.

"Does that affect Rosie?"

"Potentially."

I looked through the doorway at my sleeping daughter.

Then Leah said something that made the entire evening click into place.

"Daniel, Celeste contacted my office yesterday."

"About what?"

"She wanted to know whether footage of you behaving violently at a family function could affect your ability to represent Rosie's interests."

I couldn't speak.

Leah continued.

"I didn't understand why she was asking."

May you like

At a Lavish Family Dinner, Her Husband Slid a Brown Leather Menu Toward...

At a Lavish Family Dinner, Her Husband Slid a Brown Leather Menu Toward Her—Then One Hidden Signature Exposed the Plan Everyone Ex...

When a Father Walked Into His Luxury Kitchen and Found His Daughter Cryi...

When a Father Walked Into His Luxury Kitchen and Found His Daughter Crying, One White Discipline Card Led Him to a Secret Nobody W...

A Little Girl Was Found Crying at a Mansion Pool, but a Purple Gift Box...

A Little Girl Was Found Crying at a Mansion Pool, but a Purple Gift Box and One Hidden Key Exposed the Betrayal Her Father Refused...

I stared at the bruises on my daughter's arm.

Now I did.