Chapter 2: The First Investigation
Chapter 2: The First Investigation
The emergency department became noticeably quieter after the Prescott family was escorted into the waiting area.
Not because they wanted to leave.
Because Colonel Victoria Hart had insisted.
"I don't want anyone near my daughter until the examination is complete."
Margaret Prescott folded her arms.
"You have no authority to give orders here."
Victoria looked at the hospital's Chief of Emergency Medicine.
The physician answered before she could.
"Actually, under hospital policy, the patient has the right to refuse visitors."
He turned to Emily.
"Mrs. Prescott..."
Emily immediately interrupted.
"My name is Emily Hart."
For the first time since Victoria had arrived, her daughter's voice carried strength.
"I don't want them anywhere near me."
The doctor nodded.
"Then that's the end of the discussion."
Margaret's smile disappeared completely.
A Different Kind of Battlefield
Inside Examination Room Three, a female forensic physician introduced herself.
"I'm Dr. Rebecca Collins."
She gently pulled a chair beside Emily's bed.
"I know this is difficult."
Emily nodded silently.
Dr. Collins looked toward Victoria.
"You may stay if Emily wants you here."
Emily reached for her mother's hand.
"I don't want her to leave."
Victoria squeezed her fingers gently.
"I'm right here."
The examination lasted nearly two hours.
Every bruise was photographed.
Every injury was measured.
Every scar was documented.
The room remained almost silent except for Dr. Collins' calm voice.
"Bruise... left forearm... approximately nine centimeters."
She photographed it.
"Older contusion... right shoulder."
Another photograph.
"Healed laceration... lower back."
Victoria watched carefully.
Some injuries were fresh.
Others had nearly faded.
Different stages of healing.
Different dates.
Different incidents.
Not one accident.
A pattern.
Dr. Collins finally removed her gloves.
She looked directly at Victoria.
"Colonel..."
"Yes?"
"This isn't consistent with a single fall."
Victoria had expected the answer.
Hearing it still hurt.
The Medical Report
An hour later, Dr. Collins met privately with Victoria in a consultation room.
She placed a thick file on the table.
"I won't speculate beyond the medical evidence."
Victoria nodded.
"I understand."
Dr. Collins opened several photographs.
"The bruising around Emily's wrists is highly consistent with restraint."
She turned another page.
"The shoulder injuries appear to have been caused by forceful grabbing."
Another page.
"Several older bruises are between six and ten weeks old."
Victoria remained silent.
Dr. Collins took a slow breath.
"In my professional opinion..."
She paused.
"...these injuries strongly suggest repeated physical abuse over an extended period."
The words landed like artillery fire.
Victoria had survived combat zones.
Yet nothing had ever hurt like hearing those four words.
Repeated physical abuse.
Emily's Story
Later that night, Emily sat wrapped in a hospital blanket while Victoria quietly poured two cups of tea from the nurses' station.
Neither of them spoke for several minutes.
Finally, Victoria asked softly,
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Emily stared into her cup.
"I wanted my marriage to work."
Victoria listened.
"I thought..."
Emily's voice cracked.
"If I tried harder..."
"If I stopped arguing..."
"If I became the wife they wanted..."
"Things would change."
"They never did."
Victoria lowered her eyes.
"What happened tonight?"
Emily hesitated.
Then the words began pouring out.
"They invited donors to the estate."
"They wanted me to smile."
"I refused."
"Ethan dragged me into the guest house."
Victoria's grip tightened around the paper cup.
"He locked the door."
"He said I embarrassed the family."
Emily's breathing became uneven.
"Margaret came later."
"What did she say?"
Emily whispered,
"A Prescott wife belongs where she's told."
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
"When I said I wanted a divorce..."
"They took my phone."
"They said nobody would believe me."
Victoria quietly handed her a tissue.
Emily looked at her mother with red, exhausted eyes.
"I was so scared."
Victoria answered without hesitation.
"You never have to be scared alone again."
Detective Daniel Brooks
Just after midnight, a detective entered the room.
He appeared to be in his early forties.
His navy suit was wrinkled from a long shift.
A leather notebook rested beneath one arm.
He extended his hand.
"Detective Daniel Brooks."
Victoria shook it.
"Colonel Victoria Hart."
Brooks glanced at Emily.
"I'd like to ask a few questions."
Victoria looked at her daughter.
"Only if you're comfortable."
Emily nodded.
"I'll talk."
For nearly an hour, Detective Brooks carefully documented every detail.
When Emily finished describing the guest house, Brooks frowned.
"They kept you there for how long?"
"Six days."
"No phone?"
Emily shook her head.
"No internet?"
"No."
"Were you allowed outside?"
"Only when someone was watching."
Brooks slowly closed his notebook.
"Mrs. Hart..."
Emily looked confused.
"My last name is Prescott."
Brooks shook his head.
"Not for long."
Missing Records
The following morning, Brooks contacted two private medical clinics where Emily had reportedly received treatment over the past year.
Neither clinic could produce her records.
The first administrator sounded nervous.
"We can't locate the file."
"The entire file?"
"I'm... afraid so."
Brooks ended the call and dialed the second clinic.
The answer was identical.
"I'm sorry, Detective."
"The records appear to have been deleted."
Deleted.
Not misplaced.
Not archived.
Deleted.
Brooks immediately drove to the hospital.
Victoria was waiting in the family lounge.
"They're cleaning up," he said.
"What happened?"
"Emily's medical history has vanished."
Victoria's eyes narrowed.
"Both clinics?"
He nodded.
"Someone got there before us."
Pressure from Above
While Brooks pursued the missing records, Mercy General's hospital administrator received an unexpected visitor.
Margaret Prescott entered carrying an expensive leather briefcase.
She smiled warmly.
"I'd like to discuss a misunderstanding."
The administrator folded his hands.
"I'm listening."
Margaret placed a folder on his desk.
Inside was a donation agreement.
Five million dollars.
"Our family has supported this hospital for years."
She slid the document forward.
"We'd like to continue."
The administrator didn't touch it.
Margaret continued smoothly.
"Unfortunately..."
"This unfortunate incident has attracted unnecessary attention."
She looked directly at him.
"If certain reports were... clarified..."
"The hospital would benefit greatly."
The administrator slowly closed the folder.
"I think you should leave."
Margaret blinked.
"I'm offering support."
"No."
He stood.
"You're offering a bribe."
Her smile vanished.
"You may regret this."
The administrator calmly walked to the door and opened it.
"What I'll regret..."
He replied,
"...is failing a patient."
Margaret left without another word.
But before stepping into the elevator, she made a phone call.
"This hospital won't cooperate."
A man's voice answered.
"Then we'll solve it another way."
The First Piece of Evidence
That afternoon, Dr. Collins returned with preliminary laboratory results.
She looked unusually serious.
"I found something."
Victoria and Brooks leaned forward.
Emily's blood work showed traces of a powerful anti-anxiety medication.
The dosage wasn't high enough to sedate her completely.
But it was enough to impair judgment...
Slow reactions...
Memory...
And emotional stability.
Brooks frowned.
"Was it prescribed?"
Dr. Collins shook her head.
"Not according to any pharmacy records."
Victoria looked at Emily.
"Did anyone ever give you medication?"
Emily thought for a moment.
Then her face slowly turned pale.
"The tea..."
"What tea?"
"Every night."
"Margaret always insisted I drink herbal tea before bed."
Silence filled the room.
Dr. Collins quietly closed the folder.
"I've already preserved the blood samples."
Brooks nodded.
"Good."
Victoria looked out the hospital window.
This was no longer just a domestic violence investigation.
Someone had been systematically controlling her daughter.
Drugging her.
Isolating her.
Erasing evidence.
And now...
Trying to buy the silence of an entire hospital.
A Mother's Promise
That evening, Emily fell asleep for the first time in days.
Victoria remained beside her bed.
She gently brushed a strand of hair away from her daughter's face.
A nurse approached quietly.
"You should get some rest too, Colonel."
Victoria smiled faintly.
"I've slept in deserts."
"I've slept in helicopters."
"I've slept under artillery fire."
She looked back at Emily.
"But tonight..."
She pulled a chair closer to the bed.
"...my daughter needs to wake up and see that I'm still here."
The nurse nodded and quietly left the room.
Outside, across the hospital parking lot, a black luxury sedan sat beneath a broken streetlight.
Inside, Ethan Prescott watched the fifth-floor windows through binoculars.
He lowered them slowly.
"They're not leaving."
A voice came through the speakerphone.
Margaret.
"They won't stay forever."
Ethan's expression hardened.
"What do you want me to do?"
There was a long pause.
Then Margaret answered in a cold, measured voice.
"Find out what Emily has already told her mother."
"And if she's told too much..."
The line went silent for a moment.
May you like
"...make sure she never testifies."
End of Chapter 2
