My Husband Watched His Mistress Hit Our 6-Year-Old Daughter—Then My Father Walked Into the Room

Arthur's expression hardened.

"That's convenient."

Claire held up a hand. "Don't."

"Someone calls from nowhere, accuses your husband, and tells you not to trust me?"

"She said she worked here. Did she?"

Arthur looked at Mara.

Mara checked a tablet. "Lena Ortiz. Twenty-nine. Pediatric nursing background. Employed eleven months. Terminated four months ago. Personnel record says theft."

Claire remembered her.

Quiet. Warm. Sophie loved her.

Julian had told Claire Lena stole a bracelet.

Claire had never asked to see proof.

The shame hit hard.

"Find her," Claire said.

Lena refused to meet police. She gave Claire an address for a twenty-four-hour diner in Ventura and said she would wait fifteen minutes.

Arthur insisted on security.

Claire agreed to one unmarked car.

Lena was sitting in the last booth when Claire arrived. She looked thinner than Claire remembered. Nervous enough to keep watching the windows.

"I'm sorry," Lena said immediately. "I should've called sooner."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because Julian said he'd make sure I never worked with children again. Then somebody left photographs of my little brother outside my apartment."

Claire sat across from her.

"Tell me everything."

Lena rubbed her palms together.

"It started with sleep medicine. Julian said Sophie had night terrors. But the doses were too high. I challenged him. He told me Dr. Halpern approved it."

"And Vivienne?"

Lena's mouth tightened.

"She was around before you knew she was around."

Claire felt her stomach drop.

"How long?"

"At least two years."

Two years.

Claire and Julian had still been celebrating anniversaries then.

"Sophie saw them together," Lena continued. "That's when the punishments got worse. Not always hitting. Mostly locking her in the dark laundry room, taking her food, telling her you would disappear if she talked."

Claire covered her mouth.

Lena reached across the table.

"Sophie started recording them."

Claire looked up.

"Recording?"

"On an old voice recorder I gave her. I told her if something scary happened, press the red button. I hid it inside her stuffed rabbit."

Claire thought of the rabbit Sophie had been clutching all morning.

Her phone rang.

Mara.

Claire answered.

"Claire, where is Sophie?"

Her blood turned to ice.