Chapter 2 - The Police Interrogation
The hospital waiting room smelled overwhelmingly of harsh bleach and stale coffee.
Two uniformed police officers approached me with stern, unreadable expressions.
I expected them to ask for my official statement so they could immediately arrest Vanessa.
Instead, the older officer asked me to step quietly into a private conference room.
He pulled out a small black notepad and looked at me with deep, chilling suspicion.
"Your mother called our precinct twenty minutes ago," the officer stated coldly.
My heart hammered aggressively against my ribs.
"She reported that you had a severe mental breakdown at the family dinner table," he continued.
I stared at him in pure, unfiltered disbelief.
"She claims you shoved your own daughter into the table in a violent fit of rage," he said.
My own mother had officially framed me for Vanessa's horrific crime.
I desperately tried to explain the absolute truth, my voice shaking with pure anger.
I told them about the cake, the heavy sedatives, and exactly how my mother forcefully held my arms.
The younger officer exchanged a highly skeptical look with his older partner.
"We dispatched a patrol unit to the house, but they found the dining room completely clean," he said.
Vanessa and my mother had ruthlessly bleached the entire crime scene before the cops even arrived.
"We also found this hidden in the trash can right outside your apartment building," the older officer added.
He pulled out a sealed evidence bag containing a half-empty bottle of powerful prescription sleeping pills.
The pharmacy label clearly had my full name printed boldly across the front.
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"We know you have a history of severe postpartum depression, Claire," the younger officer said quietly.
Vanessa had stolen my old, unused medication weeks ago just to meticulously set me up.
