Chapter 2 - The Digital Trap
The hospital’s security holding room was small, windowless, and smelled heavily of industrial bleach. Ethan sat on a plastic chair, his hands tucked under his thighs to keep them from shaking. Every tick of the institutional clock on the wall felt like a hammer blow to his chest.
The door opened, and Daniel walked in, accompanied by Detective Marcus Vance, a tired-looking man in a rumpled trench coat. Daniel didn't sit down. He stood near the door, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his face pale and hollow.
"Grace is stable," Daniel said, his voice flat, devoid of the warmth he usually reserved for his family. "They have her on a ventilator in the NICU. They’re running tests."
Ethan let out a breath he felt like he’d been holding for hours. "Thank God. Dad, I swear—"
"Save it, Ethan," Daniel interrupted, his tone sharp. He nodded toward Detective Vance, who laid a heavy manila folder on the small laminate table between them.
"Ethan," the detective said, his voice deceptively gentle. "We’ve had a chat with your school, and with your father’s consent, we took a look at the home network routers. More specifically, your personal tablet and phone. Do you want to explain these?"
Vance opened the folder, sliding several printed sheets of paper across the table. Ethan’s stomach plummeted.
They were printouts of his search history from the past three weeks.
Infant respiratory distress symptoms
How long can a baby go without breathing before brain damage?
Common pediatric sedatives and dosages
Can an overdose of infant sleep aids cause sleep apnea?
Lethal dose of liquid antihistamines for newborns
"This looks very bad, Ethan," Detective Vance said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table. "To anyone looking at this, it looks like a sixteen-year-old kid who was jealous of his new stepsister was researching exactly how to quiet her down permanently without leaving physical marks."
Ethan looked at the papers, then up at his father. Daniel was staring at him, his eyes filled with a deep, crushing disappointment.
"Is this why you've been so quiet?" Daniel asked, his voice trembling. "Is this why you refused to hold her? Because you were planning this?"
"No!" Ethan shouted, standing up so fast his chair scraped violently against the floor. "You don't understand! I searched those things because of her! Because of Lauren!"
Daniel’s face hardened. "Do not drag Lauren into this, Ethan. She is Grace's mother. She has done nothing but try to make you feel welcome in our new home, and you’ve treated her like an enemy."
"Because she is!" Ethan cried, tears finally spilling over his eyelashes. "Dad, listen to me. Please, just this once, actually listen to me! For the last month, every time Lauren takes Grace into the nursery alone, she’ll be screaming her head off. Then, ten minutes later, she’s completely silent. Not just asleep—she’s limp. I’ve held her after those times, Dad. She felt like a warm bag of flour. Her breathing was so shallow I had to put my ear to her chest just to hear it."
He pointed frantically at the search papers. "I didn't search those things to hurt her! I searched them because I was terrified Lauren was doing something to her! I wanted to know what the signs of drugging were. I wanted to see if I was crazy before I came to you!"
"That is enough!" Daniel slammed his hand onto the table, the sound like a gunshot in the small room. "Lauren has been exhausted. She has postpartum depression, Ethan! The doctors prescribed her sleep aids and mild anti-anxiety medication. If she was quiet with the baby, it’s because she was calming her down, rocking her, being a mother! How dare you accuse her of poisoning her own child to cover up whatever sick game you’re playing?"
Ethan stared at his father. The realization hit him with the force of a physical blow: his father was entirely blind. He had bought into the picture-perfect life Lauren had sold him, and there was no room in that picture for a troubled, grieving teenage son who pointed out the cracks in the foundation.
May you like
"You’ve already decided I did it," Ethan said, his voice dropping to a quiet, dead whisper. "You’re not even going to look at the evidence."
"We are looking at the evidence, Ethan," Detective Vance said softly, tapping the printouts of the search history. "And right now, this is all we have."
