“Can I see her?”
“Answer me first.”
“I was at my father’s.”
“I know that. Why didn’t you come to the hospital?”
Her face crumpled.
“I didn’t know how bad it was.”
“Mrs. Jones called me. She said Maya was bleeding and couldn’t walk properly.”
“I thought Dad was taking care of it.”
I stared at her.
“Your father?”
Isabelle covered her mouth.
“He said she had fallen. He told me she was being dramatic and that Jasper was going to take her home.”
“Did you see her?”
She nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks.
“She was crying. I asked Dad what happened, and he told me to stay out of it.”
“And you left her there?”
“I thought—”
“You thought what?”
She began to shake.
“I thought they were going to calm down. I thought it was a family argument.”
I stepped back.
“My daughter was hurt badly enough to need an ambulance. How could you think that was just an argument?”
“I was scared of my father.”
The words hung between us.
For a moment, I didn’t know what to say.
Detective Brooks approached and asked Isabelle to speak with her privately.
Before leaving, Isabelle looked at me.
“Colin, please. I want to see Maya.”
I glanced at the hospital room.
“That’s Maya’s decision. And the doctors’ advice comes first.”
I didn’t say anything else.
That evening, Marcus arrived at the hospital with two members of his security team. They coordinated with the hospital’s security supervisor and made sure nobody entered Maya’s room without authorization.
Marcus sat beside me in the waiting area.
“You look exhausted,” he said.
“I haven’t slept.”
“You need to keep yourself steady. Your daughter needs you.”
I rubbed my face.
“Do you remember the last case we worked together?”
“Which one?”
“The one where a witness’s family tried to pressure him into changing his statement.”
Marcus nodded.
“You told him the truth was worth protecting, even when it cost him everything.”
“I didn’t know how hard that advice would be when it was my own family.”
Marcus leaned forward.
“Listen to me. You don’t need to become the man you were ten years ago. You need to be Maya’s father. Let the investigators do their jobs.”
I looked at him.
“That’s why I called you.”
He nodded.
“Then let us do what we can legally do. We’ll preserve the footage, help coordinate witnesses, and make sure your family isn’t approached or intimidated.”
I took a slow breath.
“Thank you.”
Later that night, Detective Brooks called.
The police had secured footage from a nearby camera. It showed Maya entering the driveway with her grandfather and uncles. It also captured a heated confrontation, followed by the men restraining her.
The camera angle did not show every detail, but it supported important parts of the timeline.
A second camera, farther down the street, recorded Maya leaving the property alone and struggling toward the sidewalk.
The footage was being preserved for forensic review.
The detective also told me that the men had been located and were being interviewed separately.
I asked whether they had admitted anything.
“I’m not going to discuss the details of their statements yet,” she said. “But there are inconsistencies we’re examining.”
I looked through the glass at Maya.
“Do what you need to do.”
“We will.”
The next morning, Maya woke with a headache and asked for water.
The nurse helped her take a few small sips.
I sat beside her, brushing a strand of hair away from her forehead.
“Daddy?”
“I’m here.”
“Did Grandpa go to jail?”
I chose my words carefully.
“The police are investigating what happened. The grown-ups who hurt you have to answer questions about what they did.”
“Will he come here?”
“No. The hospital knows who is allowed to visit you. You’re safe here.”
She looked down at the blanket.
“I’m sorry I made everybody fight.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“You didn’t make anybody fight, Maya.”
“But Grandpa said—”
“Listen to me.” I waited until she looked at me. “You did not cause this. You did not deserve it. You don’t have to make excuses for anyone who hurt you.”
She nodded, but I could tell she was still frightened.
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