Chapter 3 - The Interrogation at Sunrise
By sunrise, the house on Elmwood Terrace had transformed into a sterile crime scene. Julian Vance’s private security detail had secured the perimeter, locking all doors and preventing anyone from entering or leaving. Within an hour, local police detectives, accompanied by emergency medical technicians, arrived in response to a direct, high-priority dispatch placed by Julian’s legal team.
I was seated safely in a plush armchair in the sunroom, wrapped in a warm cashmere blanket that Julian had personally draped over my shoulders, while a paramedic checked my vital signs and inspected the surgical dressing to ensure the internal stitches hadn't completely ruptured from the sudden movement. Fortunately, the incision was intact, though the bruising around it was turning a deep, angry shade of purple.
Agnes and Chloe were huddled together on the opposite side of the room, looking utterly pathetic. Their haughty entitlement had evaporated entirely, replaced by whimpering terror as two uniform police officers stood over them, taking formal statements.
"Ma'am, step away from the kitchen island," one of the detectives instructed sternly as he bagged the dented cast-iron skillet into a heavy plastic evidence locker. "Attempted assault with a deadly weapon, coupled with reckless endangerment of a vulnerable post-operative patient, carries severe felony minimums in this state. You're both coming down to the station for formal questioning."
Just as the officers moved to cuff Agnes, the front door swung open, and heavy, hurried footsteps echoed through the foyer. Leo burst into the house, looking disheveled, exhausted, and frantic, his tie loosened around his collar, his carry-on bag still clutched tightly in his hand. He had caught the earliest red-eye flight from Tokyo the moment Julian’s legal representative had contacted him with a brief, terrifying message: Your wife is alive, but your family just tried to kill her. Get home immediately.
"Sarah!" Leo cried out, rushing past the police officers toward the sunroom. His eyes scanned my pale face, the bruising along my jaw, and the paramedics working around me. "Oh, God, Sarah—what happened? Are you okay?"
I stared at him with a cold, dead-eyed numbness. The sight of him didn't bring comfort; it only brought back the bitter memory of calling him from a hospital bed only to be met with his immediate defense of his mother's whereabouts.
"Don't touch me, Leo," I whispered, my voice devoid of emotion.
Leo froze, his hands hovering awkwardly in the air. He looked up, suddenly noticing his brother Julian standing tall and imposing by the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at him with undisguised contempt.
"Julian? What is going on here?" Leo demanded, his voice cracking with anxiety. "Why are there police officers in our house? Why is my mother in handcuffs?"
Julian took a slow, deliberate step forward, looking down at his younger brother like a disappointed predator staring at a weak cub. "Because while you were busy chasing corporate bonuses in Tokyo and pretending your family was taking care of your wife, Leo, your mother just tried to bash her skull in with a cast-iron skillet forty-eight hours after emergency internal surgery."
May you like
Leo’s face went entirely blank. He spun around, looking at Agnes, who burst into frantic, hysterical tears, wailing that it was all a misunderstanding. "Leo! Tell them! Tell them your wife is lying! She's trying to tear this family apart!"
Leo stood paralyzed in the center of the room, caught between the mother who had manipulated him his entire life and the wife he had neglected in pursuit of wealth. And in that defining moment of hesitation, I knew our marriage was officially dead.
