Chapter 4 - The Red Folder
The detective separated Grant and Victoria immediately.
Marcus watched officers lead Grant toward the east sitting room.
Victoria tried to follow Leo to the hospital.
Brooks stopped her.
"A uniformed officer is already with your son. You are staying here until I understand what happened."
"You can't keep me in my own house."
"I can keep you from interfering with witnesses."
"I'm his mother."
Elena looked at her.
"You're his stepmother."
The room froze.
It was true, but people in the Hale household rarely said it aloud.
Leo's mother, Amelia Hale, had died eleven months after giving birth. Victoria married Marcus a year later.
She insisted everyone call her Leo's mother.
Elena never had.
Victoria's face went cold.
"You have always hated me."
"No."
"You think you own him because Amelia liked you."
Elena took a breath.
"I think a baby should be safe in his own house."
"And you think I'm dangerous?"
Elena did not answer.
That silence was worse.
Marcus looked at her.
"Elena. What haven't you told me?"
She touched her split lip.
"Would you have believed me?"
He flinched.
"Tell me now."
Elena walked toward the service hall.
Brooks moved with her.
"Where are we going?"
"Laundry room."
Behind the industrial washers was a narrow cabinet where Elena kept cleaning schedules, vendor notes, and household supply lists.
She removed a stack of folded towels.
Behind them sat a red folder.
Marcus stared.
"What is that?"
"Things I couldn't explain."
Inside were photographs, dates, handwritten notes, and copies of work orders.
A stair gate outside the nursery had loosened twice.
Leo's bath thermometer had been replaced with one that read six degrees lower than the actual water temperature.
A bottle of infant medicine had appeared with a broken safety seal.
The stroller brake had failed once before.
And each time, Elena had reported it to security.
Grant Mercer.
Brooks flipped through the pages.
"Why didn't you go to Mr. Hale?"
"I tried."
Marcus looked up.
"When?"
"The night of the foundation dinner. The morning after the stair gate. Twice when you came back from Dallas."
He remembered none of it.
Elena pulled out three envelopes.
Each was addressed to Marcus in her handwriting.
Each had been returned to her by Grant with the same explanation: Mr. Hale handled it.
"I never saw these."
"I know that now."
Marcus read the first page.
Grant's initials were in the corner.
His stomach tightened.
"Why keep copies?"
Elena's eyes softened for the first time.
"Amelia taught me."
At his late wife's name, Marcus looked up.
Elena opened the back pocket of the folder.
Inside was a photograph of Amelia sitting in the nursery, laughing, Leo asleep against her chest.
On the back, in Amelia's handwriting, were six words:
If they call you paranoid, document everything.
Marcus stared at the message.
"When did she write that?"
Elena swallowed.
"Three days before she died."
Brooks stopped turning pages.
"Mrs. Hale died in a car accident, correct?"
Marcus nodded slowly.
Elena reached deeper into the folder.
"There is something else."
She pulled out a sealed envelope, yellowed at the edges.
Marcus recognized the handwriting immediately.
Amelia's.
Across the front were four words.
For Marcus. If necessary.
His hands went cold.
"How long have you had that?"
May you like
Elena met his eyes.
"Since the week before your wife died."
