Chapter 4 - The Interrogation
I stared at the officer in absolute disbelief.
My mother continued to wail, claiming she had tried to stop me but my husband had violently attacked her.
She pointed to the fresh scratches on my arms as proof of our terrible struggle.
She even pointed to my husband's head wound, claiming I had hit him with the skillet when he tried to save the baby.
The officer grabbed my wrists and told me to put my hands behind my back.
I screamed that she was lying, begging them to look at the actual truth.
The paramedics were already speeding away in the ambulance with my critically injured newborn.
My husband was loaded into a second ambulance, bleeding and barely conscious.
I was shoved roughly into the back of a cold police cruiser.
The metal handcuffs dug painfully into my wrists.
I watched through the barred window as my mother sat on the curb, drinking water from a sympathetic officer.
She looked perfectly innocent, playing the ultimate victim of a horrific family tragedy.
At the police station, I was thrown into a gray, windowless interrogation room.
A stern detective walked in and dropped a thick file on the metal table.
He told me that my mother had provided a hidden camera video from the kitchen.
My heart sank as I realized she had planned this entire nightmare perfectly in advance.
The detective turned a laptop around so I could see the screen.
The video showed me tackling my mother to the ground while the oven was open.
Due to the camera's specific hidden angle, it completely cut out my husband opening the oven door.
It looked exactly like I was assaulting her to prevent her from saving my baby.
The detective leaned in close, his voice dripping with absolute disgust.
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He told me that my husband had just woken up at the hospital.
And according to the detective, my husband had just confessed that I was the one who turned on the oven.
