Chapter 2 - What He Told The Children
The police separated us.
Sloane went outside first.
Grant stayed in the dining room with one officer.
I stayed in the kitchen because my body suddenly refused to go anywhere.
Rachel crouched in front of Owen.
She didn't ask him what happened.
Not yet.
She asked:
“Are you hurt?”
He shook his head.
Maisie climbed into my lap despite the fact that there wasn't much lap left beneath seven months of pregnancy.
Rachel looked at me.
“Hospital.”
“I’m okay.”
“That wasn't a question.”
One of the officers heard.
“She should be evaluated.”
Grant called from the next room.
“Natalie, tell them you're fine.”
Rachel stood.
“You don't speak for her.”
Grant's voice sharpened.
“She is my wife.”
Rachel walked to the dining-room doorway.
“That's not a license.”
The officer asked her to step back.
She did.
Barely.
I held Maisie.
Owen kept looking toward the drawer where the phone had been.
I asked:
“What did Dad tell you?”
Rachel immediately said:
“Nat.”
I knew what she meant.
Don't interview the witness.
She was a lawyer before she was my sister.
I stopped.
Owen answered anyway.
“He said you were going to get really mad.”
My stomach tightened.
Rachel didn't speak.
Owen continued.
“He said if we heard yelling, we had to stay where he could see us.”
“Where?”
“The kitchen.”
I looked toward the dining room.
Grant was watching through the doorway.
The officer moved him farther back.
Owen whispered:
“He said we might have to tell the truth later.”
Rachel's expression changed.
“What truth?”
Owen looked confused.
“That Mom gets scary.”
Something inside me went cold.
Grant shouted:
“I never said that.”
The officer told him to stay quiet.
Owen flinched.
I held out my hand.
He came to me.
Rachel asked the officer:
“Can I take the children out of this room?”
“Yes.”
She moved them toward the family room with another responding officer who had arrived.
Then she came back.
“Natalie.”
“I heard him.”
“I know.”
“He prepared them.”
“We don't know that yet.”
“You heard Owen.”
“I heard an eight-year-old repeat what he remembers.”
Her legal voice.
Precise.
Usually I hated it.
Tonight I needed it.
The officer holding my phone approached.
“Mrs. Mason?”
“Yes.”
“We're going to preserve this as evidence.”
Rachel said:
“Please note that the device has been continuously recording and hasn't been edited.”
The officer nodded.
Grant laughed from the dining room.
“Of course you're turning this into a case.”
Rachel looked at him.
“No. You did that when police walked into your kitchen.”
Grant stared at me.
“Natalie, she showed up with cops. Ask yourself how.”
I already knew.
The old phone's emergency shortcut sent a message to Rachel when I activated it.
I had set it up two nights earlier.
I hadn't told Grant.
Apparently I hadn't needed to activate it manually.
When the drawer was struck during the argument, the phone's emergency sequence triggered.
Rachel had called 911 while driving.
I looked at Grant.
“You thought nobody was coming.”
He said nothing.
That frightened me more than yelling would have.
The officer stepped into the dining room.
“Mr. Mason, I need you to explain the recording.”
Grant shook his head.
“I was on the phone with Sloane. She was upset.”
“You told her to wait.”
“For me to get the children out of the way.”
Owen heard from the family room.
He shouted:
“No!”
Grant turned.
Owen stood in the doorway.
His small face had gone red.
“You told us to come in.”
Grant stared at him.
Owen began crying.
“You said Mom needed witnesses.”
The entire room went silent.
Grant took one step toward his son.
The officer stopped him.
“Sir.”
Grant froze.
Then Maisie said something from behind Rachel.
Very quiet.
“Daddy told us what to say.”
Grant closed his eyes.
Rachel turned toward her.
“What did he tell you?”
Maisie looked at me.
Then at her father.
“He said if Mom pushed the lady, we say we saw it.”
I felt sick.
May you like
Because I had never pushed Sloane.
And Grant had prepared the children for it anyway.
