“Did you ever ask Evelyn Hart to assume custody?”
“No.”
“Did you believe you might have?”
Isabella looked at her mother.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she drugged me until I stopped trusting my own memory.”
Evelyn finally looked away.
Chen waited.
“What happened on the evening Vincent Moretti discovered you in the nursery hallway?”
Isabella swallowed.
“I found my mother searching Elena’s closet.”
“For what?”
“A flash drive.”
Vincent’s head turned sharply.
This was new.
Chen knew it.
“What flash drive?”
“I didn’t know then.”
Evelyn’s attorney rose.
“Objection.”
“Overruled.”
Isabella continued.
“My mother kept asking me where Mara had hidden something. I told her I didn’t know. She accused me of lying.”
Her voice tightened.
“She grabbed my hair.”
Vincent’s fists closed beneath the table.
“She dragged me toward the nursery.”
“Why?”
“She wanted me to unlock Elena’s keepsake cabinet.”
Chen stopped.
“The cabinet?”
“Yes.”
“Was it searched?”
“Yes.”
“Did police find a flash drive?”
“No.”
Chen looked toward Mara.
Mara’s face had gone pale.
Then a bailiff entered the courtroom.
He handed Chen a note.
She read it.
And froze.
The judge frowned.
“Ms. Chen?”
Chen looked at Detective Keller.
Keller was already standing.
Something was happening.
Chen whispered to the judge.
The judge ordered a recess.
Vincent followed Chen into the corridor.
“What happened?”
Chen stared at him.
“Peter Sloan was found.”
“Where?”
“Your house.”
Vincent stopped.
“What?”
“He triggered a silent sensor beneath the nursery floor twenty minutes ago.”
Isabella appeared behind Vincent.
“The nursery?”
Chen looked at her.
“He was searching Elena’s room.”
Mara whispered:
“For the flash drive.”
They found it before Sloan did.
The police searched every object Mara had touched in the nursery footage.
Books.
Blankets.
The rocking chair.
Elena’s keepsake box.
Nothing.
Then Isabella remembered something.
“The rabbit.”
Vincent turned.
“What rabbit?”
Mara’s eyes widened.
“Oh God.”
The day Elena came home, Mara had placed a stuffed white rabbit beside the crib.
Evelyn hated it.
She called it cheap.
Isabella had kept it anyway.
Police cut open the toy.
Inside its cotton stuffing was a waterproof plastic sleeve.
Inside that sleeve was a flash drive.
Mara began shaking.
“I forgot.”
“How do you forget hiding something like that?” Vincent asked.
“I was terrified.”
Detective Keller inserted the drive into an isolated police laptop.
Four folders appeared.
BANK TRANSFERS.
TRUST RECORDS.
SLOAN.
EVELYN.
And one video file.
Dated four years earlier.
The night Charles Hart died.
Isabella sat down.
“No.”
Vincent reached for her.
She shook her head.
“Play it.”
The video began.
Charles Hart sat in what appeared to be his office.
Older than Isabella remembered.
Tired.
He stared into the camera.
“If my daughters are watching this, then either I finally became paranoid…”
He smiled sadly.
“…or I wasn’t paranoid enough.”
Isabella covered her mouth.
Her father continued.
“Peter Sloan has stolen from the Hart trust for seven years.”
Documents appeared in his hands.
“My wife discovered it two years ago.”
Evelyn closed her eyes in the courtroom holding room as prosecutors watched from monitors.
Charles continued.
“She did not report him.”
