Chapter 2 - The Interrogation
The two police officers stared at me with stern and unreadable expressions.
The taller officer asked me to follow them into a private consultation room.
I felt a cold sweat break out across my forehead as I walked down the sterile hospital corridor.
My mind was still reeling from the terrifying conversation I just had with Chloe.
Someone had broken into my home and forced my wife to harm our innocent child.
We entered a small room containing nothing but a metal table and three plastic chairs.
The officers instructed me to sit down and handed me a cup of lukewarm water.
"Mr. Davis, we need to ask you some questions about your home security," the lead detective said.
I immediately told them everything Chloe had just revealed on the phone.
I explained that an intruder had threatened my wife and forced her to keep the baby in the scalding water.
The detective did not look surprised by this horrifying revelation.
He pulled a small notepad from his chest pocket and flipped to a marked page.
"Our patrol units just completed a preliminary sweep of your residence," he stated calmly.
"They found that your back patio door was shattered and the alarm system was disabled," he continued.
A heavy knot formed in my stomach as my worst fears were confirmed by law enforcement.
"Then why did my wife lie to the emergency room doctor?" I asked desperately.
"Why did she say she was completely alone when this terrible accident happened?" I pleaded for an answer.
The detective leaned forward and looked me directly in the eyes.
"We believe the intruder threatened to cause further harm if she told anyone the truth," he explained.
He told me that my wife was currently sitting in the adjacent room with a social worker.
She was completely refusing to speak or answer any questions about the incident.
I stood up from my chair and demanded to see her immediately.
I needed to look into her eyes and assure her that she was finally safe from the monster who did this.
The detective hesitated before finally agreeing to let me speak with her through a secure observation window.
I walked into the adjoining hallway and approached the thick pane of reinforced glass.
My wife was sitting at a metal table, looking paler and more terrified than I had ever seen her.
She looked up and saw me standing on the other side of the window.
Tears streamed down her bruised cheeks as she slowly reached into her pocket.
She pulled out a crumpled receipt and pressed it flat against the cold glass.
I squinted my eyes to read the frantic, messy handwriting scribbled across the paper.
The secret note read, "Do not trust the police, the man who attacked us is wearing a uniform."
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I instinctively stepped back from the window as a terrifying realization washed over me.
I slowly turned my head and looked at the detective standing right behind me.
