Chapter 2 - THE PEOPLE AT THE DOOR
No one moved at first.
The chime traveled through the estate a second time. Garrick's smile vanished. Miriam set down her wineglass with such care that I knew she was frightened.
“You invited someone into my home?” Garrick asked.
I kept one arm around Sienna. “Answer the door.”
He crossed the entrance hall as if he intended to throw out a delivery driver. When he opened the door, Police Commissioner Alan Fletcher stood beneath the portico. Beside him were two uniformed officers, Ashford Medical's general counsel, three directors, and a woman carrying a sealed medical kit.
Garrick stared at them. “What is this?”
Fletcher stepped inside. “A response to a witnessed assault and a request for immediate welfare protection.”
The directors followed. Their wet shoes sounded like a countdown against the marble.
Miriam rose. “Margaret has staged this. My daughter-in-law dropped a bowl.”
“I watched your son hit her,” I said.
Fletcher looked at Sienna. “Mrs. Ashford, would you like medical attention?”
Sienna's grip tightened around my hand. Garrick stood behind the commissioner, staring at her with a warning only she seemed able to read.
“I...” She swallowed. “I fell.”
My heart seemed to stop.
Garrick's breath left him in a relieved laugh. “There. You heard my wife.”
Fletcher did not leave. “I also heard Mrs. Carter. The officers will photograph the room and take statements.”
Garrick's lawyer pushed to the front. “Without a complaining witness, you have no grounds to search this house.”
The company counsel opened a black folder. “This is not a search. It is notice of an emergency governance meeting. Effective immediately, Mr. Ashford is suspended from executive authority pending an ethics investigation.”
That landed harder than any police warning.
“You can't suspend me,” Garrick said. “I control the board.”
One elderly director looked toward me. “Not tonight.”
Garrick finally understood that the guests had not come because Fletcher commanded them. They had come because I had called.
Miriam's face sharpened. “What have you done, Margaret?”
I ignored her and knelt beside Sienna. “Come with me.”
Sienna's eyes filled with fresh tears. “I can't.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No.” She looked toward the stairs. “My medication is upstairs. My prenatal records. My clothes.”
The clinician offered to accompany her, but Garrick stepped closer.
“My wife said she fell. She is staying in her home.”
Fletcher blocked him. “Your wife will decide where she stays.”
Every person in the foyer watched Sienna. Too many strangers, too many uniforms, too much power arriving after months in which no one had come at all. I saw her panic turn inward.
“I want to stay,” she whispered.
Garrick smiled.
I knew then that the doorbell had not rescued my daughter. It had merely shown Garrick the size of the battlefield.
As I stood, Sienna pressed something into my palm: a tiny brass key, warm from her skin.
May you like
“The nursery,” she breathed without moving her lips.
Then she released me and walked back to her husband.
