Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN AT THE DOOR
I didn't scream.
That surprised all three of us.
I walked upstairs, locked the bedroom door, and called my older sister, Olivia.
"I need you to come get me."
She heard my voice and didn't ask questions.
Twenty minutes later, headlights swept across the front windows.
Diane stood between me and the door.
"Leaving looks bad," she said.
I pulled my coat tighter. "Move."
"A pregnant woman running away during a mental-health concern? Very bad."
I looked at Mark.
"Are you going to let her block me?"
He stared at the floor.
That answer was enough.
I pushed past Diane.
Outside, Olivia was already climbing out of her SUV.
"Touch my sister and I'll call the police," she shouted.
Diane stepped back.
As Olivia drove, I showed her the photographs of the petition.
Her hands tightened on the steering wheel.
"He signed this?"
"Yes."
"Then you're not going back tonight."
We went straight to her apartment.
At 11:07 p.m., someone knocked.
Olivia looked through the peephole.
"There's a woman out there. Suit. Badge."
My heart slammed.
The woman introduced herself as Carla Ruiz from county family services.
"We received a report concerning prenatal substance abuse, suicidal statements, and unsafe living conditions," she said.
I nearly stopped hearing after substance abuse.
"That's a lie."
"I'm here to assess, not accuse."
I gave her every medication bottle. Prenatal vitamins. Iron. Heartburn tablets.
I offered to take a drug test immediately.
Carla watched me carefully.
Then she asked a strange question.
"Do you own a red wine decanter?"
"No."
She showed me a photo from the report.
A half-empty wine bottle stood on my kitchen counter beside a glass.
The timestamp was yesterday afternoon.
I had been at my obstetrician's office yesterday afternoon.
Olivia leaned over my shoulder.
"Rachel," she whispered. "That's not your wine."
I zoomed in.
May you like
In the reflection of the microwave door, barely visible, was the person taking the photo.
Diane.
