Chapter 4 - The Missing Ten Minutes
I had paid a fortune for cameras on every entryway. But the hallway recording from 3:54 to 4:06 was gone.
My head of security, Nolan Briggs, claimed there had been a software failure. Moreno didn't believe a word of it. "Funny timing," she said. "We need the access logs, not explanations."
Nolan stood rigid near the hospital reception desk. I had trusted him with my daughters' lives for six years.
"I reset the system after an alert," he said. "Mrs. Hawthorne's sister asked me to check it."
"Which Mrs. Hawthorne?" Moreno asked.
"Vanessa."
"She's my sister," I said. "Clara is my wife."
Nolan wouldn't meet my eyes.
Clara arranged to stay with her friend Nina, a physical therapist who lived across town. Olivia insisted on going with her. I wanted to argue that Olivia's room was at home, that she had school the next day, that I was her father. Instead I asked, "Do you feel safe with Nina?"
"Safer than I feel with you," she answered.
When their car left, I stood under the hospital awning in the rain. I called Vanessa seven times. She answered on the eighth.
"You're making a mistake," she said. "Clara has you turned around."
"I saw the video."
"A few seconds on a phone don't tell the whole story. You'll ruin this family."
"You almost killed Emma."
The silence lasted long enough to hear a car indicator clicking near her. Then Vanessa said, "You should be more worried about what Clara was looking at in the foundation office."
I froze. The Hawthorne Foundation had nothing to do with a stroller.
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"What did you just say?"
Vanessa hung up. A second later, an email landed in my inbox with the subject line: EMERGENCY BOARD ACTION REQUIRED.
