Chapter 5 - The Incident She NeededSerena was not arrested immediately.
That frustrated Marissa.
Detective Ortiz explained why.
“We have video. We have Hazel’s statement. We have concerning messages. But investigators still have to establish facts properly.”
“She pushed my daughter.”
“Yes.”
“And walked home?”
“She’s under investigation.”
Marissa hated procedure until she remembered procedure was what made evidence survive court.
Facts first.
The phrase came from nobody in particular.
But it became her rule.
The family court moved faster.
Marissa’s attorney, Dana Brooks, filed an emergency motion to suspend any contact between Hazel and Serena.
The court granted temporary protection.
Evan could still see Hazel.
But Serena could not be present.
The first visit took place at a park.
Evan arrived looking older.
Hazel ran toward him anyway.
“Daddy!”
He knelt and hugged her.
Marissa watched from a distance.
That hurt.
Because Evan loved his daughter.
Love had not made him observant.
Hazel showed him a leaf she found.
He smiled.
For thirty minutes, they looked almost normal.
Then Hazel asked:
“Is Serena mad at me?”
Evan’s smile disappeared.
“No.”
“Because I ruined the judge videos?”
Marissa turned away.
Evan closed his eyes.
“No, sweetheart.”
“Did I make you lose me?”
He looked horrified.
“Never.”
Hazel began crying.
Evan held her.
Marissa walked closer.
For once, he did not resent it.
Later, after Hazel went to a nearby playground with Marissa’s sister-in-law, Evan approached.
“I found the lawyer’s draft.”
Marissa stared.
“What draft?”
“Custody petition.”
“Serena had one?”
“She had a draft saved.”
“On your computer?”
“No. Hers.”
Marissa’s stomach tightened.
“What did it say?”
“That you were emotionally volatile. Disorganized. That Hazel was frequently injured or neglected.”
Marissa laughed bitterly.
“Injured?”
“There were photographs.”
“What photographs?”
Evan looked ashamed.
“A bruise on Hazel’s shin from soccer.”
Marissa remembered.
“A scraped elbow from summer camp.”
She remembered that too.
“And a burn on her finger.”
“The baking tray.”
“Yes.”
Marissa stared.
“All normal childhood injuries.”
“I know.”
“Did you know when she collected them?”
“No.”
“Did you question any of it?”
“She told me she was documenting patterns.”
“And you let her.”
Evan looked down.
Marissa’s voice hardened.
“What was supposed to happen after the mall?”
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
He hesitated.
“Serena said recently that sometimes judges act only after a serious incident.”
Marissa felt cold.
“Serious incident involving whom?”
“She never said.”
“Evan.”
“She talked about Hazel getting hurt while in your care.”
There it was.
Marissa looked toward Hazel.
“But Hazel wasn’t in my care when she fell.”
“I know.”
“Serena was.”
“Yes.”
“So how did Serena plan to use it?”
Evan rubbed his forehead.
“I don’t know.”
Detective Ortiz answered that question two days later.
Police had obtained security footage from other parts of the mall.
It showed Serena arriving with Hazel forty-three minutes before the fall.
Marissa had been shopping on the lower level because Serena had offered to bring Hazel to her after a scheduled lunch with Evan.
Evan had left early for work.
Serena knew Marissa would be in the mall.
She also knew exactly where.
A text sent by Serena to Marissa thirty minutes earlier read:
We’re upstairs. I’ll bring Hazel down in a few. Stay by the cosmetics store.
Marissa remembered answering with a thumbs-up.
Ortiz showed her the timing.
Serena had positioned Hazel above the location where Marissa was waiting.
“If Hazel was injured,” Ortiz said, “Serena could plausibly claim you were supposed to be supervising from below.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Not legally. But emotionally?”
Marissa understood.
A crying child.
A chaotic scene.
Witnesses seeing Marissa at the bottom.
A narrative could be built before facts caught up.
“Do you think Serena wanted Hazel seriously hurt?”
Ortiz chose her words carefully.
“We cannot know exactly what level of harm she intended from video alone.”
That answer frightened Marissa more than certainty.
Ortiz continued.
“But we found another text.”
“To whom?”
“A woman named Tessa Vale.”
Marissa knew the name vaguely.
Serena’s friend.
The text had been sent that morning.
Today might finally give Evan the push he needs.
Marissa stared at the word.
Push.
Maybe coincidence.
Maybe not.
“What did Tessa answer?”
Ortiz showed her.
Just make sure you don’t overdo it.
Marissa’s pulse thundered.
May you like
“Overdo what?”
“That,” Ortiz said, “is what we intend to ask Ms. Vale.”
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