Chapter 2 - The Phone Call in the RainWe sat in the back of a police cruiser parked beneath the neon sign of the Galleria.
Brynn was wrapped in a thick wool blanket provided by a young female officer named Specialist Torres. She was sipping warm apple juice from a paper cup, her little hand gripping my thumb so hard her knuckles were white.
A senior detective named Marcus Vance sat in the front passenger seat, turning a pen over in his fingers while watching the video playing on his laptop screen.
The footage was crystal clear.
At 7:14 PM, Tabitha could be seen holding Peyton’s hand while dragging Brynn by her arm down the fitting room corridor. Tabitha pushed Brynn into Fitting Room 4, pulled the heavy curtain shut, clicked the latch from the outside, and leaned close to the fabric, clearly speaking into the seam. Brynn’s little yellow sweater vanished behind the panel.
At 7:52 PM, Tabitha and Peyton walked past the same alcove carrying three shopping bags. Tabitha didn't even look toward Fitting Room 4. She simply walked out toward the parking garage, laughing as Peyton showed off a pair of glittery pink boots.
Detective Vance closed the laptop with a heavy, satisfying snap.
"Mrs. Hayes," Vance said, turning around to look at me. "This is not a civil family dispute. This is intentional endangerment of a minor and unlawful confinement. Based on this video and your daughter’s statement, we have more than enough probable cause for a warrant."
"Don't issue the warrant yet, Detective," I said.
Torres and Vance both looked at me in surprise.
"Ma'am?" Vance frowned. "Your sister locked your five-year-old in a dark room and left her in a public mall."
"I know," I said softly, looking down at my daughter’s sweet, tired face. "And she is going to pay for every single second Brynn sat in that dark room. But I want it done properly. I want every single person who enabled her to stand in that court with her."
I pulled my phone out of my purse.
"May I make a phone call?" I asked the detective.
"Go ahead," Vance said.
I dialed a number I hadn't called in nearly four years—a number I had kept hidden in my emergency contacts, hoping I would never be desperate enough to use it.
It rang three times before a deep, authoritative voice answered.
"Vance & Sterling Legal Counsel. This is Arthur."
"Arthur," I said, my voice cutting through the quiet rain outside. "It's Anya."
A heavy silence fell over the line. Arthur Sterling was one of the most feared corporate and trial attorneys in the state of Ohio—a man who billed eight hundred dollars an hour and had successfully dismantled multi-million-dollar fraud rings. He was also my late father’s elder brother—the uncle my mother had cut off twelve years ago after my father’s death because Arthur had insisted on auditing my father's estate records, discovering that Celeste had secretly drained my college fund to buy Tabitha a luxury sedan.
"Anya?" Arthur’s voice softened slightly, losing its corporate edge. "Child... where are you? Is everything alright?"
"No, Uncle Arthur," I said, staring out at the rain slicking the windshield. "My sister just locked Brynn in a dark fitting room at Nordstrom and left her there for two hours. My mother told me not to overreact and tried to cover it up."
I heard the rustle of papers instantly stop on the other end of the line.
"Read me your location, Anya," Arthur commanded, his voice turning to pure steel. "And tell the police officers beside you that Arthur Sterling is taking over this case as lead prosecution council. I am leaving my office now."
"Thank you, Uncle," I whispered.
"Anya," Arthur added before hanging up. "Did you sign the trust papers your father left behind when you turned thirty?"
I blinked. "What trust papers? Dad didn't leave a trust."
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Arthur let out a low, cold breath that made the hair on my arms stand up.
"I’ll be at the police station in twenty minutes, Anya," Arthur said softly. "It seems your mother has been keeping more secrets from you than just your sister’s cruelty."
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