Chapter 2 - WHAT ETHAN KNEW
I watched the video six times.
On the seventh, I stopped breathing normally.
Ethan had been there.
Not inside the house.
Outside.
The reflection showed him standing near the front walkway, visible through the glass panel beside the staircase.
Margaret glanced toward him.
Ethan gave one small nod.
Then she pushed me.
I zoomed in until his face became grainy.
It didn’t matter.
I knew my husband’s face.
I knew the way his left eyebrow lifted when he was nervous.
I knew the gray coat I bought him for Christmas.
I knew the wedding ring on his hand.
The nurse noticed my expression.
“Claire?”
I locked the phone.
“Can you get my doctor?”
“Are you hurting?”
“Yes.”
But not where she meant.
Twenty minutes later, Ethan entered my room carrying coffee.
He looked exhausted.
“Hey.”
I stared at him.
“Where were you when I fell?”
His hand stopped halfway to the bedside table.
“What?”
“Where were you?”
“At work.”
“What time did you leave?”
“Claire, why does this matter?”
“Answer me.”
He set the coffee down.
“Around five.”
I had fallen at 5:18.
His office was forty minutes away.
I swallowed.
“Your mother said she came alone this morning.”
“She’s upset.”
“She brought a lawyer.”
Ethan rubbed his forehead.
“Mom thinks we need to protect ourselves.”
“From me?”
“She thinks you’re unstable.”
I laughed once.
The sound startled even me.
“I’m lying in a hospital after being pushed down a staircase, and you’re worried about protecting yourselves?”
“No one knows you were pushed.”
“I know.”
His eyes flicked toward my phone.
There.
That tiny movement.
He was afraid of it.
I picked up the phone.
“I have proof.”
Ethan went pale.
“What proof?”
Before I could answer, the door opened.
Margaret walked in with a man carrying a leather briefcase.
“Claire,” she said gently, “we need to discuss what happens after the baby is born.”
The attorney placed a folder on my blanket.
I opened it.
Temporary guardianship petition.
Emergency psychiatric evaluation request.
Statements claiming I had threatened self-harm.
Claims that I had become increasingly unstable during pregnancy.
And at the bottom—
Ethan’s signature.
I looked up.
“You signed this?”
He didn’t answer.
Margaret did.
“We’re trying to protect the baby.”
I pressed the nurse-call button.
“Get out.”
Margaret smiled.
“You can throw us out of this room.”
She tapped the documents.
“But you can’t throw us out of court.”
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from my neighbor.
May you like
I have another angle. Ethan came to my door before you fell. You need to see what he asked me to turn off.
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