Chapter 2 - The First Lie Broke in the Ambulance Bay
Lily went to Nationwide Children’s Hospital.
I rode beside her.
Ryan followed separately after giving police a statement.
The pediatric team evaluated her for water exposure, temperature instability, bruising, breathing problems, and anything else a three-week-old body could not explain for itself.
She was frightened.
Cold.
But alive.
I sat beside her warmer and cried so hard my chest hurt.
Then a social worker entered.
“Emma, I need to ask difficult questions.”
“I understand.”
“Are you experiencing thoughts of harming yourself?”
“No.”
“Lily?”
“No.”
“Do you feel detached from her?”
“No.”
“Have you been sleeping?”
I laughed once.
“I have a three-week-old.”
She almost smiled.
But she kept going.
Postpartum depression.
Psychosis symptoms.
Medication.
Alcohol.
Support.
Previous psychiatric history.
I answered everything.
Not because I enjoyed being evaluated after someone else hurt my baby.
Because the safest response to a serious accusation was not outrage.
It was documentation.
Then Ryan arrived.
His face looked gray.
“The police asked how Linda got hurt.”
“What did you say?”
“The truth.”
I waited.
“I saw her push past you.”
My breath caught.
“And?”
“She slipped.”
I closed my eyes.
That destroyed one part of Linda’s story.
She had not been injured because I attacked her.
But Ryan had entered only after Lily screamed.
He had not seen who placed her in the toilet.
“They still don't know about Lily.”
“No.”
Then he said:
“Emma... Linda says you’ve been acting strange.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
His eyes immediately dropped.
“She says you’ve been exhausted. Forgetful.”
“I gave birth twenty-two days ago.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Of course.”
“Then why are you repeating this?”
He sat beside me.
“I’m telling you what she told the police.”
That was not the same as believing her.
But something about his expression frightened me.
“Has she said it before?”
Silence.
“Ryan?”
“A few times.”
My skin went cold.
May you like
Before that morning, Linda had already been telling my husband that something was wrong with me.
The accusation had not begun in the bathroom.
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