Chapter 4 - Confessions and Delusions
Armed with Emily's diary, Detective Reynolds brought my mother and sister back into the interrogation room. Because I was a cooperative witness and the immediate family, Reynolds allowed me to watch the feed from behind the two-way glass.
I needed to see it. I needed to see the faces of the monsters I had called family.
Linda sat in the steel chair, her posture perfect, her hair immaculately styled despite her days in holding. She looked annoyed, as if she were waiting to dispute a parking ticket. Ashley sat beside her, chewing her fingernails, looking much less confident.
Reynolds walked in and dropped the leather journal onto the metal table. The loud smack made Ashley jump. Linda just stared at it.
"Do you recognize this, Linda?" Reynolds asked.
"No. I don't read other people's trash," my mother said coldly.
"It’s Emily’s diary. We found it hidden in the floor vent. She documented every single day you locked her in there. She documented the sleeping pills you forced down her throat. The water you denied her. The assault by your daughter."
Ashley let out a sharp gasp. "I—I didn't! Mom made me!"
"Shut up, Ashley," Linda snapped. She turned to the detective, her mask finally slipping, revealing the terrifying delusion beneath. "You don't understand. Ethan is a good boy. He is strong. He comes from good stock. But Emily? She was weak. She was a mouse. The moment she had that baby, she became hysterical."
"She had an infection, Linda," Reynolds said, leaning in. "She needed a hospital."
"She needed to toughen up!" my mother yelled, slamming her hands on the table. "I raised two kids by myself! I didn't have time to lay in bed and whine! I wanted to see if she had the spine to be a mother. If she couldn't survive a few days in a locked room, how was she going to raise my grandson? She was going to ruin him!"
"So you starved a seven-day-old infant?" Reynolds shot back.
"The baby would have been fine!" Linda sneered. "We were going to step in. Once Emily proved she was unfit, we were going to call Ethan, tell him she had a breakdown, and have her committed. Then Ashley and I would help Ethan raise Noah. The right way. The family way."
Behind the glass, my blood turned to ice. It wasn't just neglect. It was an elaborate, sick audition for my wife's life.
Ashley broke down completely. "She told me it would work! She told me Ethan would be so grateful to us! I didn't want to hit her, but Emily tried to break the window to scream for the neighbors! Mom told me to keep her quiet!"
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They had confessed to everything. The tape was running. The case was ironclad. But as I walked out of the precinct, the victory tasted like ash. Justice wouldn't matter if Emily didn't wake up.
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