Chapter 6: What Eighteen Months Looked Like
The officer's name was Denton.
He was younger than Ryan had expected — mid-thirties, careful with his words, a notepad open in his hand that he hadn't written anything in yet.
They stood near the end of the corridor, away from the waiting area.
"The camera in the nursery," Denton said.
"We've confirmed it was registered to a device account in your mother's name."
Ryan looked at him.
"She installed it."
"The account was created fourteen months ago.
The camera was purchased online and shipped to a P.O.
box registered in her name." Denton paused.
"She's been watching that room for over a year."
Ryan put his hand against the wall.
"We also found a second device," Denton said.
"In the kitchen.
Behind the clock on the shelf above the refrigerator.
Same account.
Same purchase date."
"She was watching the whole house."
"The kitchen footage goes back eleven months.
We're pulling it now." Denton looked at his notepad.
"Mr.
Marsh, I want to be straightforward with you.
What we're looking at here is not a family dispute.
The installation of surveillance equipment in a private residence without the knowledge or consent of the residents — that's a crjminal matter.
The deliberate removal of a child's medical device — that's another."
Ryan said nothing.
"Your mother has not been formally questioned yet.
We'd like to do that tonight, with her consent, or we can move through other channels.
That's her choice to make." Denton looked up.
"But I want you to know what we have, so you understand where this is going."
"Where is it going?" Ryan asked.
Denton considered his words.
"Somewhere she didn't plan for."
Ryan straightened.
"There's a letter.
From Dr.
Harmon.
The pediatrician.
It was sent to the family attorney eight months ago.
I have it."
Denton's pen came up.
"I'd like to see that."
Ryan walked him back to the waiting room.
Maya handed over the letter without being asked.
She had already folded it back into the envelope, like she had known this moment was coming.
Denton read it standing up.
His expression didn't change much, but his pen moved steadily across the notepad.
"Dr.
Harmon is still Caleb's physician?" he asked.
"Yes," Maya said.
"We'll need to speak with her." He looked at Maya.
"Mrs.
Marsh, I want to ask you directly — is there anything else you've noticed over the past eighteen months that felt wrong?
Anything at all, even if it seemed small at the time?"
Maya looked at him for a moment.
Then she reached into her bag and pulled out her phone.
She opened the folder.
She handed it to him.
"I documented everything," she said.
"I didn't know why I was doing it.
I just knew I needed to."
Denton scrolled for a long moment.
He stopped twice.
He handed the phone back.
"Mrs.
Marsh," he said, "I'm going to need you to send all of that to the case email I'm going to give you.
Every file.
Every date."
"I'll send it tonight," she said.
He gave her his card.
He looked at Ryan.
"One more thing," Denton said.
"Your mother is still in the building.
She hasn't left.
We'd like to speak with her before she does." He paused.
"I'd recommend you not be in the room for that conversation."
Ryan nodded.
Denton walked back down the corridor.
Ryan sat down next to Maya.
She was already forwarding files from her phone, one by one, methodical and quiet, the way she had been doing everything alone for a very long time.
He watched her for a moment.
"You built that folder the night she canceled the September appointment," he said.
It wasn't a question.
"The night after," Maya said, without looking up.
"I sat at the kitchen table at two in the morning and I started writing everything down.
Every date.
Every visit.
Every time something felt wrong." She paused.
"I didn't tell you because I thought you'd think I was paranoid."
He didn't say anything.
Because she was right.
He would have.
May you like
Down the hall, behind a closed door, his mother was about to have a conversation she had not prepared for.
And for the first time since he had stepped through that front door tonight, Ryan Marsh was not the one who was too late.
