Chapter 4 - The Web of Lies
The room fell into a terrifying silence, broken only by the steady, beep of Marin’s heart monitor, which had accelerated into a frantic, high-pitched rhythm.
I slowly turned my head to look at Marin. She was cowering against her pillows, her eyes darting between Vance, Tessa, and me, tears streaming silently down her cheeks.
I looked back at Mark Vance. A smug, disgusting smirk began to form at the corner of his thin mouth as he realized Tessa was taking his side.
“You heard her, Mercer,” Vance croaked out, his voice hoarse from my grip on his collar. “I’m her boyfriend. I came in to check on her and the kid during my shift. Let me go before I call hospital security and have you thrown in jail.”
I didn't let go. I tightened my grip, driving my forearm slightly higher against his throat until his smirk vanished and his eyes bulged.
“He threatened her, Tessa,” I said, not taking my eyes off Vance.
Tessa blinked, shaking her head frantically. “What? No, he didn't! He loves Marin! He’s been taking care of us!”
“Ask her,” I said coldly.
Tessa turned to the bed. “Marin? Sweetie, what is Uncle Andrew talking about? Mark wouldn't hurt you, right?”
Marin pulled the blanket higher, burying her face up to her eyes. She shook her head rapidly, refusing to speak, paralyzed between the fear of Vance and the fear of upsetting her mother.
“Look at her, Tessa!” I shouted, my voice cutting through the room like a siren. “Look at your daughter! She is terrified of this man! She told me today she didn't fall down the stairs!”
Tessa stepped back, her hands flying to her mouth. Her eyes went wide, swimming with denial and panic. “No... no, she slipped. She told me she slipped!”
“Because he threatened to ruin your life if she told the truth!” I shoved Vance hard against the wall again. “Is that right, Mark? You like picking on eight-year-old girls when their mothers aren't looking?”
Vance’s hands came up, grabbing my wrist, his boots scraping against the floorboards as he tried to pry my fingers off his jacket. “You’re crazy, Mercer! You’re out of your mind! Tessa, call security!”
Instead of calling security, Tessa stood frozen, her eyes darting from Vance’s face to Marin’s terrified expression.
For the first time, I saw the cracks in her denial. I saw the horrifying truth beginning to settle into her chest. She had wanted so desperately to believe that her new life was working, that she had found someone to help her after Greg left, that she had blinded herself to the bruises, to the subtle shifts in her daughter’s behavior, to the fear that had taken over her home.
“Mark...” Tessa whispered, her voice cracking. “Did you... did you touch her?”
“Of course not!” Vance spat, gasping for air. “Your brother is a lunatic! He’s got PTSD or something! He’s attacking me!”
“Search his pockets, Andrew,” a tiny voice whispered from the bed.
Everyone stopped.
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Marin had pulled the blanket down from her face. She was sitting up, her small body trembling, but her eyes were fixed on Vance with a sudden, sharp clarity.
“Check his coat pocket,” Marin repeated, her voice stronger now, freed by the presence of someone willing to fight for her. “He took my tablet. He took it so I couldn't show Mom the videos.”
