Chapter 3 - The Handcuffs
Before Helen could take another step toward the bed or grab the child's wrist, the heavy composite door of Room 412 swung wide open again, hitting the rubber wall stopper with a muffled thud.
A woman in a sharp black business suit stepped into the room, her eyes scanning the scene with practiced, ruthless speed. Resting on her hip was a silver badge clipped to her leather belt. Behind her, two uniformed police officers in sky-blue shirts stepped into the room, their leather duty belts creaking in the tight space.
The lead investigator raised her right hand, holding up a clear plastic evidence bag. Inside the sealed pouch lay a sleek, stainless-steel auto-injector, its needle cap smeared with a faint residue of clear fluid.
"We recovered Lily's missing injector from your car, Helen," the investigator declared, her voice flat, official, and entirely devoid of emotion.
Helen spun around, her dark plum blazer flaring as her heel clicked against the tile. Her mouth opened in shock, her face turning a mottled red.
"That's impossible!" Helen shrieked, backing away toward the window, her hands fluttering wildly. "You planted that! Someone put that in my glove compartment! Arthur did this—he's framing me!"
The two uniformed officers moved in with practiced synchronization. The larger officer grabbed Helen’s left wrist, twisting her arm behind her plum blazer while the second officer drew a pair of steel handcuffs from his belt.
Click-clack.
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"Helen Hart, you're under arrest," the investigator announced, stepping aside as the officers secured the steel cuffs around Helen's wrists.
Helen thrashed against their grip, her elegant chignon loosening as gray strands fell across her face. "You don't know who I am! Unhand me! You have no idea what you've done!"
