“Hey, princess.” I smile into her sleepy eyes. “Did we wake you up?”
She gurgles happily, even though her eyes are sleep-hazed. She’s such a happy baby, and I’m determined she’ll stay that way.
Ms. Darling’s face softens into that lady-putty women always melt into around Caleb. I get it. The shell is pretty impressive—six foot six inch, toned, tan, blond. The man is practically gilded. Not to mention those violet–blue eyes he’s passed onto our daughter. When you get to the center, though—when you peel back the golden overlay—at his core he’s nothing but a rotting side of meat. Spoiling and crawling with maggots. And I’m the lucky girl who gets to snuggle up to that every night.
“Mr. Bradley,” Ms. Darling breathes, her eyes admiring. “Thank you for bringing her down.”
“Please call me Caleb.” He adds the megawatt smile. “We want to get to the bottom of why anyone would say something like this about us.”
I roll my eyes. If I want to get to the bottom of anything, it’s the lies he and Ramone told to bring this woman here in the first place.
“Well technically,” Ms. Darling says, darting me a quick glance, “the complaint wasn’t filed against you. Just your fiancée.”
“I’m not his fiancée.”
The words spew out before I think better of them. The glacial look in Caleb’s eyes makes me wish I had kept my mouth shut, but my chin still tilts to a defiant angle.
“I’m sorry.” She looks at MiMi’s ring on my finger. “I thought—”
“No problem,” Caleb cuts in, smooth as a knife through butter. “We’re a family, the three of us. Natural mistake. What do you need to do? We want to cooperate fully.”
I suppress a frustrated sigh. His false solicitousness frays my nerves.
“With older children,” Ms. Darling says, “we interview them on their own, but since Sarai is a baby I’ll just need to examine her.”
“This is ridiculous,” I mutter, fury bubbling under my skin. “I haven’t done a thing to hurt her, and these accusations are completely unfounded.”
“Of course they are, babe,” Caleb says soothingly. “So we just get this over with. Ms. Darling is simply doing her job.”
He reaches to brush the hair back from my shoulder, and I flinch. His eyes narrow, but the smile he offers is a thick pomade smoothed over his anger, slicking back his displeasure.
“May I see her?” Ms. Darling extends her arms, and it takes everything in me to hand Sarai over to her. I know she won’t find any marks or bruises, but this process is humiliating. I’m adding it to the list of things I’ll never forgive Caleb for.
Caleb and I watch as Ms. Darling lays Sarai on the couch and strips her clothes off, leaving her in only her diaper. Tears sting my eyes while she combs my baby girl’s plump little arms and legs for marks I’m supposed to have left on her. The painful irony is that the real abuser is standing right beside me. Until I find that journal, Caleb’s right. I don’t trust our legal system not to award Caleb joint, if not full, custody after the tower of lies and circumstantial evidence he’s stockpiled against me.
“I think everything is in order here.” Ms. Darling slips Sarai’s footed onesie back on. “I don’t see any evidence of abuse.”
“Of course you don’t, because I would never,” I snap.
Her brows lift at my sharp tone.
“I’m sorry. This is just all awful and disgusting. To think someone would accuse me of something like this, and we are … I am being subjected to this, is just a sore spot for me, as you can imagine.”
“I’m sorry for any inconvenience,” Ms. Darling says. “But when we receive a call like that, we have to make sure.”
“Do you have any idea why someone would lie about this?” I demand, at least wanting her to consider
someone is out to get me, to tarnish me. I wish I could spill Caleb’s diabolical plan, but I have no proof and would only look like I was trying to deflect attention. I don’t look at him, but I feel Caleb’s stare boring into the side of my face as surely as the barrel of his gun did last night.
“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” Ms. Darling says, a small frown knitting her brows. “Regardless, we’ll stay in touch.”
“Stay in touch?” My voice skips up a few octaves. “Why? You’ve seen that she’s fine. Is this not over?”
“Just as a precaution, we’ll schedule one more visit to ensure conditions remain consistent.”
Dammit. I have enough to worry about without having to suffer through this useless farce again.
When Caleb walks her out, I’m already halfway up the stairs and in the nursery by the time I hear her car pulling away. It only takes a little humming, several walky-bounces, and a few minutes before Sarai’s little eyes are drooping and she resumes her nap. I close the nursery door quietly and turn to go back downstairs, only to collide with a wall of muscle.