Chapter 3
The first night after Margaret was removed from the house, nobody slept.
Claire sat in the nursery beside Leo’s crib.
I sat on the floor next to her.
Maria tried to leave twice.
Claire stopped her both times.
“You are not walking home after this,” Claire said.
Maria shook her head.
“I don’t want trouble.”
I looked at her bruised cheek.
“Maria, you saved my son.”
“And slapped your mother.”
Claire said, “She slapped you first.”
Maria’s mouth trembled.
“That never matters in houses like this.”
That sentence hit me hard.
Because she was right.
In our world, people like Margaret got called difficult.
People like Maria got called dramatic.
Margaret could slap and still be “upset.”
Maria could defend herself and be “violent.”
I hated that I understood the system too well.
The next morning, Margaret’s lawyer called.
Then my uncle.
Then my older sister, Denise.
All with the same message.
Handle it quietly.
Do not ruin your mother.
Think of the family.
Denise was the worst.
“Daniel, Mom would never hurt Leo.”
“I watched the footage.”
“Maybe you misunderstood.”
“She put his toy at the top of the stairs.”
A pause.
Then Denise whispered, “Why would she do that?”
That was the question.
The one I could not stop hearing.
Why?
Margaret hated Maria.
That was obvious.
She had accused Maria of stealing towels.
Breaking crystal.
Letting dust gather in rooms nobody used.
But risking Leo?
That was something darker.
Claire found the first clue.
She was going through Leo’s diaper bag when she discovered a folded envelope tucked beneath the wipes.
Inside were printed papers.
A complaint form.
Against Maria.
Already filled out.
It claimed Maria had been negligent with Leo near the stairs.
It claimed Claire and I were too trusting.
It claimed Margaret had “personally intervened” to prevent tragedy.
The date was yesterday.
Before it happened.
My hands went cold.
“She planned to blame Maria,” Claire whispered.
Maria covered her mouth.
I read the last line.
Recommended action: immediate termination and immigration review.
Maria went pale.
“Immigration review?” Claire asked.
Maria sat down slowly.
“My work visa renewal is pending.”
I looked at the complaint.
Then at Maria.
Then at the nursery where my son slept.
Margaret had not only tried to fire Maria.
May you like
She had tried to destroy her life.
And she had used my baby to do it.
