Chapter 4 - The System Against Him
I stared at the photograph of the tampered hinge, feeling a cold sickness spread through my stomach.
"Caroline," I whispered, the horrifying truth sinking in.
"She went into the guest bedroom while Mia was napping before the party."
The detective sighed and leaned back in his chair, tapping a pen against his notebook.
"That is an interesting theory, Mr. Miller, but your sister claims you did it to gain sympathy," the detective said.
"Why would I sabotage my own daughter's medical equipment?" I demanded, fighting the urge to flip the metal table.
"According to your mother, you have a history of seeking attention through your daughter's illness," the detective read from a report.
My own mother had crafted a psychological profile of me to feed to the police.
They were building a wall of lies so thick I couldn't possibly break through it.
The door to the interrogation room clicked open, and a woman in a sharp business suit walked in carrying a briefcase.
"I am Sarah Jenkins, a caseworker with Child Protective Services," the woman announced without any warmth.
She didn't look at me like a father in pain.
She looked at me like I was a monster.
"Based on the testimonies of three family members, we are taking emergency custody of Mia," Sarah stated flatly.
"You can't do that, she needs me!" I begged, my voice breaking.
"Your sister Caroline has filed an emergency petition to become Mia's temporary foster guardian," Sarah continued, ignoring my tears.
"The judge is reviewing the paperwork tonight."
I felt the remaining air leave my lungs.
They weren't just trying to stay out of jail.
They were trying to take my daughter away forever to ensure she could never tell the truth about what happened.
I buried my face in my hands, trying to think through the blinding panic.
Then, a sudden, electric realization hit me.
Months ago, when I first started suspecting my family was saying cruel things to Mia behind my back, I bought a tiny digital voice recorder.
I had carefully sewn it inside the lining of Mia's favorite stuffed gray bunny.
That bunny had been in Mia's hands when Caroline ripped the brace off.
It had fallen onto the dining room floor right beside them.
The bunny was still at the house.
I looked up at the detective, forcing my face into a mask of calm compliance.
"I need to make my one phone call," I said.
The detective nodded and pushed a desk phone toward me.
"Make it quick."
I dialed the only number I could think of, praying he would answer.
May you like
"Doctor Caldwell," I whispered when the line connected.
"I need your help to get out of here tonight."
