Chapter 5 - The Shield of the Law
Twenty minutes later, while the police were still en route, the hospital room door opened, and a woman in a sharp gray pantsuit walked in.
It was Sarah Lin, my former colleague from the compliance firm who had left three years ago to launch her own high-profile family and criminal law practice in Chicago. Sarah was a fierce, brilliant woman with sharp eyes and a reputation for tearing lying defendants to pieces on the witness stand.
I had texted her the encrypted video link five minutes after calling the police.
Sarah didn't say a word when she entered. She walked straight to the side of my bed, set her heavy leather briefcase on the floor, and wrapped her arms gently around my shoulders.
I buried my face in her shoulder and finally allowed myself to weep—not with panic, but with the raw, exhausting release of a survivor who was no longer alone.
“I watched the video, Em,” Sarah whispered, her voice tight with suppressed fury as she stroked my hair. “I watched it twice. That bastard is never going to see the outside of a cell if I have anything to say about it.”
I pulled back, wiping my face with a tissue. “Is it enough, Sarah? Is it legally admissible?”
“It’s a gold mine,” Sarah said sharply, pulling a yellow legal pad from her bag. “Illinois is a two-party consent state for audio recordings in private spaces, except when the recording captures the commission of a violent felony or a crime of domestic violence under Section 14-3 of the Criminal Code. Furthermore, the camera was installed in a common area of a house you jointly own. It’s completely legal, completely admissible, and utterly devastating.”
She looked at the door, her eyes cold. “Where is he?”
“He went to get coffee,” I said. “He should be back any minute.”
“Good,” Sarah said, sitting down in the chair Daniel had occupied moments earlier. “Let him walk into the net.”
At that exact moment, the door pushed open.
Daniel walked in carrying a paper cup from the cafeteria. He was smiling, his expression relaxed, looking every bit the weary, supportive husband coming back to comfort his grieving wife.
When his eyes fell on Sarah sitting beside my bed, his smile froze mid-frame.
“Sarah?” he asked, stepping into the room, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “What are you doing here? How did you know Emily was in the hospital?”
Sarah didn't stand up. She rested her elbows on her knees and looked at him with an expression of pure, unadulterated disgust.
“I’m here as Emily’s legal counsel, Daniel,” she said smoothly.
Daniel chuckled—a nervous, dismissal laugh that rattled in his throat. “Legal counsel? For what? It was an accident, Sarah. A terrible, tragic accident. Emily fell down the stairs—”
“Save it for your arraignment, Daniel,” Sarah interrupted coldly.
Daniel’s face flushed. He took a fast step toward the bed, dropping his coffee cup onto the nightstand. “Emily, what is this? What have you told her? I told you we were going to handle this together as a family!”
I looked directly into his eyes—the eyes of the man I had slept beside for five years, the man whose children I had carried, the man who had thrown me down fourteen wooden steps without a second thought.
“We are handling it, Daniel,” I said softly.
Footsteps echoed sharply down the tiled corridor outside. Two uniformed police officers stepped into the doorway, accompanied by a detective in a trench coat holding a leather notebook.
“Daniel Vance?” the detective asked, his eyes locking onto my husband.
May you like
Daniel backed up half a step, his hands reflexively coming up in front of his chest. “Yes? What’s going on here? There’s been a mistake—”
“Mr. Vance, I am Detective Miller with the Special Victims Unit,” the officer said, stepping into the room and pulling a pair of steel handcuffs from his belt. “You are under arrest for aggravated domestic battery, aggravated assault, and two counts of intentional homicide of an unborn child.”
