Chapter 13 - Seventy-Two Hours
The county scheduled my home assessment for Thursday.
I had three days to transform my guest room into a safe place for an infant while continuing to work and meet with Rebecca.
I borrowed a crib from a certified resale program that checked it against current safety standards.
I installed a smoke detector and cleared every loose cord from the room.
I bought plain sheets, bottles, and a changing pad.
I did not buy toys that made noise.
I wanted the room to feel quiet.
My friend Tessa helped assemble the crib while I checked the documents the agency had requested.
"You don't have to do this alone," she said.
I nearly cried at the word alone.
During the assessment, a caseworker named Monica Grant asked difficult questions.
Could I take time off work for medical appointments?
Did I understand that kinship placement was temporary and subject to court orders?
Was I willing to support safe, approved family contact even when I was angry with Kate?
I answered yes because Paige deserved stability, not a new battle over adult pride.
Monica inspected the sleeping space, spoke to references, and explained that no decision was guaranteed.
When she left, I sat on the edge of the guest-room bed and stared at the empty crib.
Then the detective called.
He had confirmed that a camera outside Kate's house captured Ryan returning Friday evening much earlier than he had claimed.
Ryan had originally told investigators he arrived home after Paige began crying.
The video placed his car in the driveway nearly an hour before Linda arrived.
That discrepancy was significant but still did not establish what happened inside.
Brooks asked whether I recognized a truck parked across the street in the recording.
I did.
It belonged to Ryan's brother, Marcus.
I had not known Marcus was there Friday.
Neither, apparently, had Linda.
Before bedtime, an unknown number sent me a message.
Marcus wasn't there to visit.
May you like
He was there to clean up.
