Chapter 2 - “It Wasn't for Emily”The ambulance arrived seven minutes later.
To Emily, it felt like seventy.
Two paramedics moved quickly through the kitchen while Ryan stayed beside her.
"Thirty-two weeks?" one asked.
"Thirty-three tomorrow," Emily managed.
"Any bleeding?"
"No."
"Contractions?"
"I don't know. It just hurts."
The paramedic placed a monitor against her abdomen.
Emily watched his face.
That terrified her more than the pain.
"Is the baby okay?"
"We're getting a heartbeat."
"Normal?"
"It's there. Let's focus on getting you evaluated."
Ryan squeezed her hand.
"I'm coming with you."
Emily nodded.
Then looked toward the counter.
"The food."
Ryan followed her eyes.
"Take it."
One paramedic glanced at him.
Ryan explained quickly.
"We think something may have been put in it."
Margaret stepped forward.
"No. You think Emily reacted badly to dinner."
Emily stared at her.
Ryan picked up the tray.
"Nobody touches this."
"Ryan."
He looked at his mother.
"Nobody."
A Dallas police officer arrived just before the ambulance left.
Ryan had mentioned possible food tampering during the emergency call.
Margaret's entire demeanor changed again.
She became calm.
Offended.
Almost wounded.
The officer held up the bottle Ryan had removed from her purse.
"Ma'am, what is this?"
Margaret folded her arms.
"A supplement."
"What kind?"
"A digestive supplement."
"Why isn't it labeled?"
"I transferred it into a smaller travel bottle."
Ryan stared at her.
"You don't travel."
Margaret looked at him.
"I did last month."
"To Fort Worth."
"That still counts."
The officer examined the bottle without opening it.
"Did you put this in Mrs. Carter's food?"
"No."
Emily heard that answer from the stretcher.
Immediate.
Clean.
No hesitation.
She looked at Margaret.
Margaret looked back.
For the first time, there was no warmth between them.
Only calculation.
Emily pointed toward the tray.
"Please don't let her touch it."
The officer nodded.
"We'll secure it."
Margaret's expression hardened.
"Emily, this is ridiculous."
A contraction hit.
Emily cried out.
Ryan immediately turned away from his mother.
"Let's go."
The ambulance doors closed.
Margaret watched from the driveway as they pulled away.
Eleanor stood beside her.
Neither woman spoke.
Then Eleanor said quietly:
"What did you put in her food?"
Margaret turned.
"Nothing."
"I watched you try to throw it away."
"Because it made her sick."
"You picked that tray up before anyone said food caused it."
Margaret's jaw tightened.
"Mother, don't start."
Eleanor's expression changed.
She hated being called Mother by Margaret in that tone.
Margaret had married her son Thomas thirty-six years earlier.
Thomas had been dead for five.
But Eleanor still remembered how quickly Margaret could make a sentence sound like an order.
"You had the bottle."
"It's mine."
"Then why did Emily know to look in your purse?"
Margaret stepped closer.
"She didn't know."
Eleanor frowned.
"She guessed."
Margaret looked toward the house.
"Because she's been waiting for a reason to turn Ryan against me."
Eleanor stared.
"She's eight months pregnant and being taken to the hospital."
"Exactly."
The word came too fast.
Eleanor heard it.
"What does that mean?"
Margaret shook her head.
"Nothing."
She walked back into the kitchen.
The officer remained beside the counter.
Another officer had arrived.
Margaret stopped.
"What are you doing?"
"We're securing the tray."
"Do you need a warrant?"
"We've been given consent by the homeowner."
Margaret's eyes sharpened.
"Who?"
Eleanor entered behind her.
"Me."
Margaret turned.
The house had originally belonged to Eleanor and her late husband.
When Thomas and Margaret married, Eleanor had retained ownership even after allowing them to live there.
Most people forgot that.
Margaret never did.
The officer asked, "Does the security camera work?"
Margaret's head moved slightly.
Ryan had installed the camera after a burglary in the neighborhood six months earlier.
It covered the kitchen and part of the dining area.
Eleanor looked up.
"Yes."
Margaret spoke quickly.
"It's only live view."
Eleanor turned toward her.
"What?"
"The recording function hasn't worked in months."
"Ryan fixed it."
"No, he didn't."
"He showed me footage of the dog getting into the trash last week."
Margaret went quiet.
The officer looked toward the camera.
"We'd like to preserve anything from tonight."
Eleanor nodded.
"Of course."
Margaret picked up her purse.
"I'm going to the hospital."
"No."
Eleanor's voice surprised both of them.
Margaret slowly turned.
"What did you say?"
"Ryan doesn't need you there."
"He's my son."
"And Emily is his wife."
Margaret's face tightened.
"You've never liked me."
Eleanor almost laughed.
"This isn't about liking you."
"It always is."
"No."
Eleanor looked toward the sealed food tray.
"It's about whatever happened at that table."
Margaret's phone buzzed.
She glanced down.
A notification.
SECURITY SYSTEM — CLOUD SYNC COMPLETE.
For half a second, panic flashed across her face.
Eleanor saw it.
Margaret quickly dismissed the alert.
But something inside Eleanor had already shifted.
Five minutes later, while Margaret was in the downstairs bathroom, Eleanor approached the officer.
"Young man."
"Yes, ma'am?"
"The password for the security account is written inside the kitchen drawer."
Margaret emerged from the hallway.
She stopped when she saw Eleanor pointing toward the drawer.
"What are you doing?"
Eleanor looked at her.
"Making sure nobody gets to decide what happened except the camera."
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And for the first time that night—
Margaret looked afraid.
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