Chapter 3 - The Wrong Story
The wet patch wasn’t blood.
At the hospital, a nurse said Grace’s water had broken.
Then another nurse said maybe not.
Then a doctor with tired eyes said, “You’re contracting, but the baby’s heart rate is steady. We’re slowing things down if we can.”
Grace nodded without hearing most of it.
Rosa sat in the corner with five stitches in her arm and dried mud on her cheek.
A sheriff’s deputy stood near the door.
“Mrs. Nolan,” he said, “your husband reported the vehicle stolen about forty minutes before the train incident.”
Grace stared at him.
“What?”
“He says you left the house upset. Ms. Alvarez followed you.”
Rosa laughed once. It was a hard, ugly sound.
The deputy glanced at her.
Daniel had moved fast.
Grace swallowed. “He tied me up.”
“Who?”
“My husband and his mother.”
The deputy’s pen stopped.
Rosa stood. “They put the car on the tracks.”
“Ms. Alvarez, sit down.”
“No.”
“Rosa.” Grace held out a hand.
Rosa sat, jaw tight.
The deputy asked careful questions. Where had the rope come from? Which door had Victoria blocked? Who broke the window? Why were there no ropes in the car when railroad police arrived?
Grace froze.
No ropes?
Rosa looked at her.
The deputy continued, “We found broken glass, yes. We found damage consistent with the car leaving the rail bed. But no binding material.”
Daniel had gone back.
Or Victoria had.
Grace pictured the black SUV at the end of the road.
The deputy closed his notebook halfway. “Your husband says you’ve been under stress.”
There it was.
Not an accusation. Worse. A soft place for doubt to sit.
Grace looked at Rosa. “Tell him about the fire.”
Rosa’s eyes sharpened.
“Grace.”
“Tell him.”
The deputy waited.
Rosa looked down at her stitched arm.
“I worked for the Nolan family twelve years,” she said. “I know things I should have said sooner.”
“What things?”
Rosa didn’t answer.
Grace felt anger rise through the medication haze.
“My husband owns assisted-living homes. Cedar Pines burned last year. Six people died.”
The deputy’s expression changed slightly.
Grace kept going. “I found invoices that didn’t make sense. Sprinkler repairs that were billed but never done. Fire-door inspections signed off when the doors were chained open.”
The room got very still.
The deputy looked at Rosa. “And you know about this?”
Rosa whispered, “My mother was in Cedar Pines.”
Grace turned to her.
She had known Rosa lost someone in the fire.
She had never known who.
The deputy opened his notebook again.
May you like
Rosa lifted her eyes.
“And I have something Daniel thinks burned with the building.”
