Chapter 7 - What Linda Wouldn't Say
Rebecca advised me not to meet Linda alone.
We arranged for Linda to speak with Detective Brooks and a victim advocate at the station.
She never arrived.
At nine that morning, Linda texted that she was sick.
At eleven, she stopped answering her phone.
By noon, Ryan had posted a long message online accusing me of exploiting a family tragedy for attention.
He did not name Paige's medical condition.
He did not mention the makeup.
He simply wrote that some relatives couldn't be trusted with children.
Friends who had known me for years began sending cautious messages asking what really happened.
I answered none of them.
Rebecca had warned me that public arguments would only blur the facts.
Instead, we prepared a complete record of my calls, receipts, and movements on Saturday.
My pharmacy receipt showed where I had stopped for diapers the night before.
My building's elevator log confirmed the time I took Paige downstairs.
The hospital registration timestamp matched my account.
None of those facts identified Paige's abuser.
But together they established that I had moved quickly once I found her injury.
Late that afternoon, Brooks called Rebecca with a new question.
Had I ever seen Ryan become angry when Paige cried?
I remembered Christmas Eve.
Paige had been only a few months old, and Ryan had snapped at Kate to shut her up.
He had thrown a set of keys onto the counter hard enough to make everyone jump.
Kate had apologized to him, not to the baby.
I told Rebecca to pass on the memory with the date and the names of everyone present.
That evening, Linda finally called back.
Rebecca listened on speakerphone with my permission.
"I don't know how much I can say," Linda began.
"Then tell the police what you know," Rebecca said.
"Ryan said it was an accident."
Silence filled my kitchen.
"What accident?" I asked.
Linda began crying.
"I never saw him do anything. But Kate called me Friday night, and Paige wouldn't stop crying."
"What did you see?"
"Her leg."
My chair creaked as I leaned forward.
"And you put makeup on it?"
"I shouldn't have," Linda whispered.
"I was scared."
Before Rebecca could ask another question, a man's voice sounded in the background.
Linda gasped.
May you like
The line went dead.
