Chapter 3 - The Interrogation in the Hallway
"Get out," I whispered.
Marlene blinked, her carefully applied makeup unable to hide the sudden sheen of cold sweat breaking out across her forehead. "Excuse me?"
"I said, get out of my house," I repeated, my voice escalating into a roar that shook the framed pictures on Lily’s bedroom wall. I pointed a trembling finger toward the front door. "You poisoned my wife. You lied to the hospital about where I was. You covered your tracks, and when my daughter caught you red-handed with the evidence, you attacked her. Get out before I lose what's left of my self-control!"
For a brief second, Marlene looked as though she might argue, might pull rank, might invoke her social status or her wealth to cow me into submission. But she looked into my eyes and saw something terrifying: a father and a husband who had nothing left to lose.
Without another word, she snatched her handbag off the chair, clutched it to her chest like a shield, and marched stiffly out of the room. Her heels clicked sharply against the hardwood floor of the hallway, a rapid, frantic rhythm until the front door swung open and slammed shut behind her with a jarring crash.
I stood frozen in the center of the pink rug for a long moment, breathing heavily, trying to process the wreckage of the last ten minutes.
"Dad?" Lily’s voice broke through the haze. She was still sitting on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, tears cutting clean tracks through the dust on her cheeks. "Is Mom really sick? Did Grandma do that to her?"
I dropped to my knees, pulling Lily into my arms so hard she let out a small gasp. I buried my face in her curly hair, letting my own tears fall hot against her neck.
"I don't know everything yet, bug," I choked out, my voice thick with emotion. "Arcs of this... I don't understand it yet. But I promise you, on everything I love, I am going to find out. And your mom is going to be okay. We are going to make sure of it."
"She was crying yesterday, Dad," Lily mumbled against my shoulder, her small hands clutching the back of my shirt. "When Grandma left... Mom was sitting at the kitchen table crying. She said Grandma was trying to make her sign papers. Papers about the house and... and about me."
My mind raced. Papers? What papers? Sarah and I owned this house together. We had a modest life, built on hard work and quiet suburban stability. Why would Marlene be having her sign property documents? Unless... unless Marlene had been manipulating Sarah’s finances or estate control under the guise of maternal guidance.
"Did you see what kind of papers?" I asked gently, pulling back to look into her eyes.
"No, they were in a leather folder. Grandma put them right back in her big briefcase before I came into the kitchen," Lily sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve.
I stood up, holding Lily’s hand tightly. "Come on. We're going to the hospital right now. We're going to see your mom, and then we are going to call the police."
We didn't bother changing my grass-stained clothes or washing up. We piled straight into my truck, Lily buckling herself into the back seat with trembling fingers, and sped out of the driveway toward Mercy General Hospital twenty miles away.
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The drive was a blur of flashing traffic lights, white knuckles gripping the steering wheel, and a cold, burning determination settling deep into my chest. Marlene thought she could orchestrate a tragedy behind closed doors, hide the evidence in her purse, and intimidate a nine-year-old child into silence.
She had severely underestimated what a husband and a father would do when pushed to the edge.
