Chapter 2 - THE PERSON IN THE VIDEOOfficer Grant took my phone before I could replay the clip.
“Don’t touch anything else.”
“What did they put on the food?”
“We don’t know.”
“But you saw it.”
“I saw someone handling something near the meal.”
“Handling something?”
My voice rose.
“My children are behind those doors.”
Elise grabbed my wrist.
“Daniel.”
I looked at her.
She was staring at the phone.
Not the officer.
And suddenly I realized something.
She recognized the person too.
The figure in the video was Celia Ward.
My children’s grandmother.
Elise’s mother.
The woman who had arrived at our home carrying casseroles and Christmas presents.
For several seconds neither Elise nor I spoke.
Officer Grant asked quietly, “That’s a family member?”
“My mother,” Elise whispered.
I turned toward her.
She looked physically ill.
“No.”
“Elise—”
“No. There has to be another explanation.”
I wanted one too.
God, I wanted one.
Celia had driven Noah to soccer practice.
She had watched Sophie when Elise and I celebrated our anniversary.
She had sat in our living room reading bedtime stories.
There had to be another explanation.
The clip continued.
Celia removed something small from her purse.
The camera angle couldn’t show exactly what it was.
She leaned over the turkey.
Her hand moved.
Then she walked toward the children’s place settings.
She paused.
That was the part I couldn’t explain away.
Not the turkey.
The children’s places.
She touched Noah’s plate.
Then Sophie’s.
After that, she returned the object to her purse.
Thirty seconds later, Martin walked into the room.
Celia smiled at him as though nothing had happened.
Officer Grant asked, “Where is your mother now?”
Elise blinked.
“She was at the hospital.”
“Was?”
We looked around.
Celia wasn’t there.
Neither of us had noticed her leave.
Officer Grant immediately spoke into his radio.
My stomach twisted.
Then the emergency-room doors opened and a doctor approached.
“Parents of Noah Mercer?”
I forgot Celia.
Forgot the video.
Forgot everything.
“Yes.”
“Your son is stable.”
My knees nearly gave out.
The doctor explained that Noah had suffered a severe reaction consistent with ingestion of a medication or chemical agent affecting blood pressure and heart rhythm.
Testing was still underway.
“Is he going to be okay?”
“We’re optimistic. You got him here quickly.”
“And Sophie?”
“Similar symptoms, less severe.”
Elise covered her mouth.
I closed my eyes.
Both children alive.
For that moment, nothing else mattered.
Then the doctor added something.
“There is one thing you should know.”
My eyes opened.
“We’re seeing a pattern that suggests the exposure was concentrated. If multiple people ate the same meal but experienced different severity, the contaminant may not have been distributed evenly.”
Officer Grant heard that.
“So individual plates?”
“Possibly.”
Elise began shaking her head.
“No.”
I knew what she was thinking.
The video.
Celia had touched the children’s plates.
Officer Grant stepped away to make a call.
I sat beside Elise.
She stared at the floor.
“My mother would never hurt them.”
“I know.”
“She loves them.”
“I know.”
“She kept Sophie for three months when I went back to work.”
“I remember.”
“She cried when Noah was born.”
I held her hand.
But another memory had already entered my mind.
Thanksgiving.
Celia and Elise arguing in the kitchen.
I hadn’t heard everything.
Only one sentence.
Celia saying, “If Daniel finds out, you’ll lose everything.”
At the time, I assumed it was about money.
Now I wasn’t sure.
“Elise.”
She looked at me.
“What did your mother mean on Thanksgiving?”
Her entire expression changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Fear.
I knew my wife well enough to recognize it.
“Elise?”
“This isn’t the time.”
“It became the time when our children were poisoned.”
She flinched.
“Don’t call it that.”
“What should I call it?”
“We don’t know what happened.”
“The video—”
“Doesn’t show what she had.”
I stood.
“Then tell me what Thanksgiving was about.”
She looked down.
And I knew.
There was something she hadn’t told me.
Before I could push further, Martin hurried around the corner.
“Rachel’s awake.”
Then he saw our expressions.
“What happened?”
Officer Grant returned.
“Mr. Ward?”
Martin nodded.
“Were you seated with the family tonight?”
“Yes.”
“I need you to remain at the hospital.”
Martin glanced at me.
“Why?”
Officer Grant didn’t answer directly.
“Where is your mother?”
Martin’s face changed.
“She went home.”
“What?”
“She said she was getting medication for her blood pressure. About twenty minutes ago.”
Officer Grant swore under his breath.
Two officers left immediately.
Martin stared after them.
“What’s going on?”
I held up my phone.
“Mom was caught on camera touching the kids’ food.”
His reaction surprised me.
He didn’t look shocked.
He looked frightened.
“What exactly did you see?”
Elise noticed it too.
“Martin?”
He swallowed.
“Nothing.”
“What do you know?”
“Nothing.”
“Martin.”
He glanced toward Officer Grant.
Then lowered his voice.
“Not here.”
I grabbed his jacket.
“My children are in hospital beds.”
“Daniel.”
“Tell me.”
Martin pulled free.
“I said not here.”
“Why?”
“Because if Mom did what I think she did, this didn’t start tonight.”
Silence.
Elise turned white.
“What does that mean?”
Martin stared at his sister.
“You seriously never told him?”
“Told me what?”
Neither sibling answered.
I looked between them.
“What the hell is going on?”
Martin ran a hand across his face.
“Eight years ago, Dad didn’t die from a heart attack.”
Elise whispered his name.
“Martin, stop.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“He had a heart attack,” she insisted.
Martin shook his head.
“That’s what Mom told everybody.”
My skin prickled.
Celia’s husband, Robert Ward, had died before Noah was born.
Family history said he collapsed at breakfast.
Natural causes.
Tragic.
Simple.
Apparently not.
Martin continued.
“Dad had been sick for weeks. Dizzy spells. Vomiting. Fainting. Mom kept saying doctors couldn’t figure it out.”
Elise stood.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I found the hospital records.”
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
That explained his recent distance from Celia.
“And?” I asked.
Martin looked directly at me.
“Dad had the same symptoms Noah had tonight.”
A cold feeling moved down my spine.
“Elise?”
She couldn’t look at me.
Then her phone buzzed.
One text message.
Unknown number.
She read it.
Her face collapsed.
I took the phone.
YOU SHOULD HAVE KEPT YOUR PROMISE.
I looked at my wife.
“What promise?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
Before she could answer, Officer Grant’s radio crackled.
A voice came through.
“Units at Ward residence. Front door open. Vehicle gone.”
Officer Grant responded.
Then another transmission.
“We found something in the kitchen.”
He looked at us.
“What?”
The officer on the radio hesitated.
“A handwritten note.”
“What does it say?”
The answer came through clearly enough for all of us to hear.
I DIDN’T MEAN TO HURT THE CHILDREN.
Elise broke down.
But the officer wasn’t finished.
“There’s another line.”
Officer Grant waited.
I ONLY NEEDED DANIEL TO EAT IT.
May you like
And suddenly I realized the children might never have been the intended victims.
I was.
Related Stories
