Chapter 6 - Back to the Langston House
Elena returned to Wellesley two days later.
Not to reconcile.
To retrieve clothing, medical records, and the baby items she needed before delivery.
Claire came with her.
So did Ben.
Miles was at work.
Dorothy was supposedly at a charity committee meeting.
Elena had insisted on both conditions.
The mansion looked unchanged.
Sunlight through the tall windows.
Cream furniture.
Polished hardwood.
The staircase.
Elena stopped at the foot of it.
Her body remembered before her mind did.
Pain tightened across her hip.
Claire touched her elbow.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
Elena looked up.
The fourth step.
That was where Dorothy stood.
The box had been on the landing.
Miles’s phone had fallen near the entry table.
For thirteen seconds, that area had contained more truth than the previous four years of her marriage.
Ben went upstairs for luggage.
Claire followed Elena into the living room.
A tiny white onesie remained beneath a side table.
Elena bent carefully and picked it up.
No one had noticed it.
She folded it against her belly.
Then a red light near the ceiling caught her attention.
“Camera.”
Claire looked up.
A security camera covered the living room and lower staircase.
Elena frowned.
“There should be footage.”
“Did police ask?”
“I didn’t make a report.”
“Could still exist.”
Elena opened the household security app.
She had access.
Or used to.
Password incorrect.
She tried again.
Nothing.
“Changed,” she said.
Claire photographed the login screen.
Elena walked to the equipment cabinet.
The recorder had a local status display.
She knew enough to navigate basic playback because she and Miles used it after a package theft last year.
The date of the fall appeared.
Video until 12:41 p.m.
Then nothing.
Recording resumed at 12:58.
Elena fell at approximately 12:49.
Claire stared.
“Seventeen minutes.”
Elena’s mouth went dry.
“Exactly.”
“Could be outage.”
“The other cameras?”
They checked.
Front gate recorded continuously.
Driveway recorded continuously.
Back patio recorded continuously.
Only the interior zone had a gap.
Claire said, “Photograph everything.”
Elena did.
Then the front door opened.
Dorothy entered.
She stopped when she saw them beside the security cabinet.
For one second nobody spoke.
Then Dorothy smiled.
“Elena. I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I told Miles.”
“Perhaps he forgot.”
Claire watched her.
Dorothy looked toward the cabinet.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking footage.”
“There isn’t any.”
The answer came too quickly.
Elena turned.
“How do you know?”
Dorothy’s face barely changed.
“Miles told me the system malfunctioned.”
“When?”
“After the accident.”
“The accident.”
Dorothy sighed.
“I’m not doing this with you.”
“You already did.”
Claire stepped closer to Elena.
Dorothy glanced at her.
“Of course Claire is here.”
Claire smiled.
“Hello, Dorothy.”
“You’ve always encouraged Elena to see enemies where there are disagreements.”
Claire said, “I don’t think we’ve ever discussed you.”
The response irritated Dorothy more than an insult would have.
Elena walked toward the stairs.
Dorothy’s voice followed.
“You shouldn’t be climbing.”
“My doctor says stairs are fine if I’m careful.”
“I meant emotionally.”
Elena stopped.
There it was again.
Emotion as incapacity.
She turned.
“Why were the cameras disabled?”
“They weren’t.”
“Only the interior system stopped recording for seventeen minutes.”
“I don’t manage security.”
“Who does?”
“Miles.”
Elena watched her.
Dorothy had answered strategically.
Not I don’t know.
Miles.
Push the question toward him.
Interesting.
Elena continued upstairs.
In the nursery, she found drawers rearranged.
That alone meant nothing.
Then she opened the closet.
Half of her hospital bag contents were missing.
Her birth plan.
Insurance folder.
Copies of medical directives.
She called downstairs.
“Dorothy?”
No answer.
Elena went to Miles’s office.
In a lower drawer sat her folder.
Why?
She opened it.
Her medical directive was there.
So was a copy of her health-care proxy.
Miles was primary agent.
Claire secondary.
Nothing unusual.
But clipped behind it was a printed article:
POSTPARTUM PSYCHOSIS: RECOGNIZING EARLY WARNING SIGNS.
Elena stared.
A second article discussed emergency custody when a parent represented an immediate danger.
Claire read over her shoulder.
Neither spoke.
On the desk sat a legal pad.
Fresh page.
The top sheet had been removed.
Elena shaded lightly over the paper with the side of a pencil from the cup.
Claire stopped her.
“Don’t alter.”
Elena froze.
“Right.”
Claire photographed the impressions instead.
Faint words were visible.
E. staying with friend may support temporary separate residence.
Document refusals of family support.
Elena’s chest tightened.
“This isn’t about Dorothy hating me.”
Claire’s face had changed.
“No.”
“They’re preparing for something.”
The front door closed downstairs.
Dorothy had left.
Elena looked toward the nursery.
The unfinished crib.
The blue blankets.
The photograph from the twenty-week ultrasound.
For months Dorothy had referred to the baby as the future of the Langston family.
Elena had thought it was arrogance.
May you like
Now she wondered whether it was ownership.
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