Chapter 8 - WHAT THE CAMERA DIDN'T SHOW
"That's from the afternoon I took Emma to urgent care," Mom said, studying Ryan's photograph. "She'd burned her finger on a hot pan Vivian left on the floor."
I felt the room tilt. "Why wasn't I told?"
"Ryan said it was small. He told the nurse I was the babysitter."
The photograph was real. The accusation printed across it wasn't. Ryan had stripped the picture of everything that would explain why Emma was crying.
June had me preserve the email, the original attachment, and the complete conversation. A pediatrician examined both children and documented Emma's healing minor burn without guessing who caused it. I gave the doctor every fact I knew and admitted what I didn't.
That afternoon Detective Dana Mills took Mom's statement at a quiet office. I waited outside. Mom had asked to speak alone.
When she came out, her shoulders shook, but she was holding a folder of her own.
"Did you tell her about the basement?" I asked.
"I told her all of it. Including the money."
"What money?"
Mom swallowed. "I gave Ryan thirty thousand dollars last winter. He said his business was failing and he'd lose the house. He told me not to worry you."
"You don't have thirty thousand to spare."
"I had savings. I thought I was keeping the children safe."
I hugged her. For years she'd saved grocery coupons and patched sweaters. Ryan had let her work over a hot stove while sitting on her retirement money.
Detective Mills came into the hall. "Mrs. Ellis has given us account records. We also need to discuss potential forgery. Please let our office handle the criminal side."
I nodded.
A call arrived from June before we reached the car. "Claire, the bank flagged an attempt to secure a large loan using documents from your family trust."
May you like
"How large?"
"Four hundred and eighty thousand dollars. And the application lists you as the guarantor."
