Chapter 2 - The Anatomy of a Setup
As Investigator Vance motioned toward a private consultation room, the terrifying puzzle pieces began snapping together in my head. I thought back to the moment Kate dropped Paige off at my front door. It hadn't been a casual family favor. It had been a calculated execution.
Kate had looked frazzled on purpose, planting the excuse of a "rough night of teething" to explain away any pre-existing distress the baby might display. When she whispered, “You’re the one person I trust to make the call if she gets too fussy,” she wasn't paying me a compliment; she was establishing a narrative for the police, ensuring that when the authorities were called, I would immediately look like an overwhelmed, unstable babysitter who had cracked under pressure.
"You need to look at the X-rays and the medical examiner's preliminary assessment," Vance said coldly, sitting down across a stainless-steel table and opening her case file. "Dr. Harrison confirms that Paige's left femur has a clean, spiral fracture. That kind of injury requires immense torque and direct pressure. It did not happen by accident. And according to the lab report, the cosmetic concealer used to cover the bruising was a high-end, waterproof brand. We found traces of it on your living room changing table, as well as on your hands and sleeves."
"Of course it's on my hands!" I sobbed, hot tears finally breaking over my eyelashes as frustration and terror warred in my chest. "I wiped it off her skin when I changed her diaper! Someone painted over her bruise before she even arrived at my house! Kate brought her here already injured, covered it up with makeup so I wouldn't notice immediately, and then executed this sick plan to frame me!"
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"People accused of heinous crimes often try to shift the blame to family members," Vance replied, her tone devoid of sympathy. "It’s a classic defense mechanism. Unless you have concrete proof that refutes the digital timeline and your own phone's outgoing message log, you are looking at felony child abuse, aggravated battery, and immediate CPS removal of any guardianship rights."
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. My sister—the girl I had shared a bedroom with, the sister I had defended through every childhood crisis—had calmly, methodically decided to sacrifice her own infant daughter's health and frame me for a felony. But why? What kind of monster would break her own baby's leg just to pin it on her sister?
