Officer Miller appeared in the doorway a few minutes later. He didn’t look rushed or angry. He looked neutral, which somehow felt worse— as if he’d seen this so many times that surprise had burned out.
“Ms. Walker,” he said, “when you have a moment, I need to ask you a few questions. We can step into the hall.”
Lucy stiffened. Her whole body tightened against mine.
“It’s okay,” I told her softly. “I’ll be right outside. Dad’s here too— Chris is here, okay? You’re not alone.”
Chris had arrived while I was with the nurse, his face pale and furious, his eyes going straight to Lucy like he needed to check she was real. He stood now by the window, jaw clenched, hands fisted at his sides.
Lucy nodded, but her grip tightened before she let go.
In the hallway, Officer Miller opened a notepad.
“This is just initial information,” he said. “We’ll do a formal statement later. Where were you today?”
“At work,” I said.
“And your daughter was with—?”
“My parents,” I said, the words tasting bitter. “And my sister, Amanda.”
“The vehicle she was found in is registered to you,” he said. “Can you explain that?”
“I loaned my car to them this morning,” I said. “They said they needed it to fit everyone.”
He wrote something down. “Did you give permission for Lucy to be left alone in the vehicle at any point?”
“No,” I said immediately. The word came out sharp. “Never.”
He looked up at that, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. “All right,” he said. “We’re still establishing a timeline and speaking with everyone involved. We’ll be in touch to schedule a full statement. For now, I need you to remain available and not contact anyone involved about the case.”
My stomach dropped. “Not contact?” I repeated, because the idea of not calling my family felt impossible.
“It’s best for the investigation,” he said. “You can communicate about your daughter’s medical needs, but avoid discussing details.”
I nodded, though my mind immediately leapt to a single thought: If I didn’t contact them, I wouldn’t know what happened. But maybe that was the point. Maybe the police already suspected what I was afraid to name.
When I went back into Lucy’s room, she was calmer, sipping from her cup with small, careful sips. She watched me like a hawk.
“Did you talk to him?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said, sitting beside her. “I talked to him.”
“Am I in trouble?” she whispered.