Chapter 15 - The Lowest Room
By the end of that week, everyone around me seemed to have a plan.
Detectives had warrants.
Lawyers had letters.
Ryan had a schedule for the NICU and a list of things he wished he could take back.
I had a daughter whose oxygen numbers kept dropping.
Sophie developed an infection that required stronger medication and close monitoring.
Her doctor spoke carefully, explaining what the team knew and what they were still watching.
I nodded as if my head belonged to somebody else.
Then I went into the family bathroom and cried until the paper towels were gone.
Ryan found me sitting on the floor.
“She's getting the best care,” he said.
“I know.”
“She's fighting.”
“I know.”
The words didn't make it better.
I needed him to understand that we could do everything right now and still be frightened.
He sat down beside me without another promise.
That helped more.
Outside, Brianna had been released subject to court conditions while the investigation continued.
She was ordered not to contact me.
Within hours, an account using a stranger's name posted a picture of our hospital with a caption accusing me of ruining an innocent woman's life.
Ortiz said the account would be examined, but no one could assume Brianna controlled it without evidence.
I stopped reading public comments.
I stopped asking whether strangers believed me.
“You don't have to be brave for me,” I whispered. “Just stay.”
Late that evening, the doctor said her numbers had steadied.
My knees nearly failed from relief.
When we returned to my room, Ryan found a message waiting from Ortiz.
She had asked the technician to recover the camera's internal files.
The memory card was damaged, and most of the video would not play.
But one short segment had survived.
May you like
The message included a timestamp and five words.
You need to hear this.
